


Papa Don't Preach

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, But Not Much, Deaton isn't horrible, Everyone's alive, I love the Sheriff, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Magic Stiles, SO MUCH FLUFF, Scent Marking, Scott isn't horrible either, Snorting, baby werewolf, lil bit of sex, that's important, why is there so much snorting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: You know the drill. The Argents find a baby and Peter and Stiles are elected to take care of her. Oh, she's a wolf baby.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 155
Kudos: 429
Collections: Steter Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a nice one-shot for Steter Week, but it looks like it's gonna be longer! I know how it goes, I'm writing chapter 3 now. Hope you enjoy this.

“Why are we here again?” Peter scrubs a hand through his hair and glares at Deaton and Scott. They’re standing by the open gate leading into the back room of Deaton’s clinic. He holds the gate open because of course Scott can’t touch it either.

“We have a bit of an emergency and thought you could help,” Scott answers. “Come into the back and I think you’ll see what I mean.” He addresses Peter directly, something he’s generally loathe to do.

It’s so obvious and so unusual Stiles notices and can’t stay quiet. “So you actually need Peter, but you wanted me here to convince him to do something he won’t want to?”

“No! Well not exactly no. I mean we do need Peter’s help, but I called because you’re like, you’re the only mated couple in the pack.”

Stiles grins as Scott’s face turn red. “Aw, you’re so cute when you get embarrassed, big ass true alpha, blushing at the thought of us being mates. Don’t worry, Scotty, we may have dated three years before we got married, but we were both pure on our wedding night.”

“That’s total bullshit, Stiles.” Scott screws up his nose and hisses, “You guys really stunk, especially the first year.”

“We don’t stink now?” He turns to Peter and grabs his arm. “Honey, the magic’s gone out of our marriage, we need to get stinky again.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s that you guys just smell like… like a mated couple, like you’re always together and…”

“And while I couldn’t be more thrilled to talk about how you smell, I’d like to get to the actual reason you’re here.” Deaton takes into his office, past all the examination rooms, at the end of the hallway. “She was in the back room where the other kennels are, but she was so unhappy.”

On his desk, in a medium sized crate, is a tiny brown and white wolf curled up on a stack of towels.

“Ohhh, what a cutie!” Stiles whispers. He turns to his spouse and says, “Are we here because you cheated on me? Because she is cute and has your coloring.”

Peter rolls his eyes and says, “All pups are cute.” He sniffs in the air and looks at Deaton. “I think I understand your issue.” He shrugs and says, “What would you like us to do about it?”

“If it’s a werewolf and it’s stuck in its wolf form, that would be really sad! Like Malia, but even worse cause she’s a baby,” Scott whines, pointing at her kennel.

Peter opens the cage and picks up the little cub, holding her securely as she struggles her way out of sleep. “Okay little one, let’s see what you have.” He flashes his eyes at her and they’re rewarded with a quick amber flash. Peter scratches her behind the ears and whispers, “Good girl.”

“Can I?” Stiles asks, looking like an anxious kid on Christmas morning.

Shrugging, Peter carefully hands her over and says, “Gently sway, don’t go hopping around.” He watches for a minute while the cub sniffs at Stiles and then shuts her eyes. “Obviously, it’s good that we smell alike.”

“So the big question is, Scott, why didn’t you do that and why are we here? In in some detail, please?”

“I didn’t want to scare her because she’s so little and I didn’t know how she’d react and maybe I’d alpha-whammy her or something or maybe –” He stops as though he’s run out of breath, and looks to his friend. “You understand, right?”

“Sure, first time I saw an alpha werewolf… well, it tried to kill me, so I married it.” Although he’s talking to Scott, it’s mostly whispered into the cub’s head along with several little smooches. “You want us to keep her and see if we can get her back to being a baby? Keep her around cuddly Peter over there and she’ll get comfy and turn back?”

“Do you have any back story, where did she come from, what do you know about her?” Peter moves closer to his mate, brushing his hand down the pup’s back. “She didn’t just wander in, was she left in a basket at the front door?”

“No,” Deaton says, sitting down in the chair behind his desk. The others take chairs as well, Stiles and Peter sharing one with the pup asleep across them. “No, Allison Argent brought her in a little earlier today. She said there’d been some hunter problems east of here and when they were cleaning up, they found her in the woods, hiding under some shrubs. They weren’t sure if she was a shifter or not, but thought if she was abandoned then maybe I could help to get her to a sanctuary.”

“Hunter problems?” Peter sneers and the pup growls in her sleep. “Sorry, sorry, don’t smack me,” he says to Stiles, leaning over to kiss his temple. “But you’re saying hunters killed all or part of a pack and the Argents just happened to find a little werewolf baby. Or was it even they’re not so cruel as to kill an infant? No, that’s wrong, too, isn’t it?”

Scott sighs and Deaton shakes his head. “Peter, I do feel confident in what Allison said about how they found her and –“

“Allison doesn’t lie and she follows the code. You know she goes out to be sure other families are as well and actually she ended up getting two of them arrested,” Scott says. His smile isn’t quite as open as when he was younger, with more responsibilities on his shoulders. But when he’s talking about his friend’s accomplishments (especially Allison’s) it’s still pretty sunny.

“Chris is asking around to see what he can find. As I understand it, it wasn’t a very established pack, traveling more than most. The Argents weren’t sure how many people were in the pack or even their names.” Deaton smiles and says, “And yes, we’re thinking you two could keep her. For now. Hopefully she’ll come out of her shift and be a nice normal werebaby and the Argents will find some family to come and get her.”

Stiles looks up at his partner, hope in his eyes. “Sounds like it could be a while, with no information on the pack that was there. Big obligation.”

“I can look after a baby for a bit. We’ll call it rehearsal.”

After they leave, he checks her teeth and feels the length of her front leg before nodding to himself. “I’d say as a pup she’s about two months old, surely no more than three. She’ll present as a little older when she shifts back to baby.

“How’s that possible?” Stiles asks. He’s riding in the back seat of the jeep, with the pup in her cage on the seat next to him. “And we need a car seat. Oh god and a ton of stuff, I should make a list.”

“The age is possible because it is. Werewolf aging, we’ve discussed it. And for now, she’ll need a couple of bowls until we can bring her back to herself, and … I’m sure I’ll remember. I can look it up, you feed the wolf pup what you would a human baby, just more of it,” Peter says, glancing back in the rearview mirror. “We have a bit of time before you need to get all the baby stuff, I’m sure she’ll need at least a day before she turns.”

Stiles gives her a gentle pet between her ears. She’s awake and looking around the back seat of the jeep, but so far, she’s not growling or howling or anything too scary. “I hope so, I love this pup, but…”

“Your ovaries are demanding a cute little girl? A human girl? Is that what you’d like?” Peter’s voice goes from teasing to serious in seconds.

“Maybe? I don’t know, it’s not like my biological clock is ticking. Maybe we should discuss surrogacy when this is done. I mean if this gets done.” He leans forward, sticking his head between the front seats. “Maybe we can talk about it?”

“We can,” Peter answers, pulling into their garage. “Let’s see how this goes and how quickly we can get this little girl back to herself.”

After a quick snack of leftover roast chicken, and a wipedown with a wet towel, (Peter: Stiles, she smells like Deaton. Which will not be in our bed.) they settle her in the middle, in between their pillows, on a nest of blankets. “This is how babies sleep in packs, Stiles. Sorry, not sorry.” He strips down, tucking his t-shirt into the nest and watches as the pup snuffles, sighs and starts snoring softly. “Yours too, please, my love.”

Stiles strips quickly, shucking everything off until he’s in his boxers, never taking his eyes off the sleeping cub. “Whatever she needs.” He stops and stares while Peter tucks his shirt and socks around the pup. “Oh my god, first we have to sleep with my socks? I don’t even want to sleep with my socks! Second, she doesn’t have a name! What will we call her, what’s her name, Peter?”

There’s just the beginning hint of panic in Stiles’ scent and Peter quickly pulls him close, holding him securely. He takes a deep breath and waits until Stiles follows him and does the same.

“You know socks have a lot of smell to them and she’ll like that. And I suppose we can call her whatever we like.” He looks at the pup who was watching them. Then she tucks her head under her tail and falls back into an exhausted sleep. “We don’t know how long we’ll have her, of course. And remember, she’s had a couple of pretty bad days.”

“No, no we don’t know how long we’ll have her,” he says quietly, squirming to get under the covers. He won’t be able to get as close to Peter as normal, and reaches to the foot of the bed to pull up an old, knitted throw over his legs. If he can’t get wrapped around Peter, he’ll need it to stay warm. “I’m sure someone is looking for her. Probably.”

“I think you’re warming up to the idea of a baby.” Peter tucks himself around the cub and puts his feet under Stiles’. “Here, warm up your feet. Tomorrow we’ll see how she’s doing and if she’s ready to come back as a baby, we can go out and pick things up. If she’s still feeling shy, we’ll order things next-day delivery. Easy peasy.”

“Easy for you.” Stiles yawns and reaches over to give Peter’s hand a squeeze. “Maybe we can buy her a name.”

“Leto,” Peter states. “Not at all subtle, but hell, people don’t know their Greek mythology anymore anyways.”

Stiles snorts and shuts his eyes. “Leto, I like it. And no one ever said you were subtle, Peter.”

Peter wake up Stiles with a cup of coffee, laptop tucked under his arm. “Morning, darling, plenty to do today.”

Stiles gropes for the cup, not opening his eyes, just listening to the quiet clicks of the keyboard as he gulps the first mouthful, muttering “hot hot hot.”

“Every. Single. Day.” Peter glances over and rests his hand on Leto as he scoots closer to his spouse. “Okay, my love, here we have items for her bedroom. I’m thinking this crib that turns into a bed, and this dresser that has a changing table on it.” He flips to another screen. “Here’s her car seat and her high chair.”

“You’ve been busy,” Stiles answers, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. “Umm, yeah, I guess to all of it. And she’ll have the guest room, which I guess I should now be calling Leto’s room. Do you think we need all this stuff, how long is she going to be here?”

“Maybe she’ll be here a week or a month or I have no idea. I guess it depends on what Hunter Argent finds out.” He flips to a page that has what are, quite frankly, adorable and impractical dresses. “Really? You’re jumping ahead, aren’t you?” He wrinkles his nose and looks down at the pup who is yawning and trying to chew on his fingers. “Stinky Leto here peed the bed, Peter. Do you really think a – “ he turns the laptop towards him and watches as Peter puts a tiny lavender dress into his shopping cart. “Do you think that would be worn more than once?”

“It only needs to be worn once for pictures.” He opens his electronic shopping cart and quickly skims through the list, which is long. Very long. “And don’t worry, there’s t-shirts and rompers and a lot of onesies. Babies go through those like toilet paper.”

“Which, ironically, they don’t seem interested in.” Stiles looks at the check out information and doesn’t bother to say anything at the total. It’s Peter so it’s not surprising that it’s more than Stiles makes in a month.

“This is for delivery tomorrow, and my apologies to the warehouse workers,” Peter says, getting off the bed and pulling clothes out for Stiles. “You need to get dressed, there’s stuff to do. Oh, and don’t let her chew on your fingers; remember, she’s a baby, not a puppy.”

“Okay, what do you need me to do? How do we get little Leto Hale back to being a baby who can wear those clothes? And how do you know what sizes to get, we haven’t even seen her!”

“Darling really? This isn’t my first werebaby, you know.”

Stiles does know, they’ve talked about Peter’s wife and child, both killed in the fire. It’s not something they discuss a lot, but they’ve talked about it enough. And with enough time having passed and his new pack and family, he (mostly) remembers the good times and only gets maudlin on anniversaries or birthdays.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Stiles says, wrapping Peter in his arms, tilting his head so Peter can scent him thoroughly and relax. “Why are we getting dressed, are we going somewhere?”

“I’m going to go out and pick up a few things in case we’re lucky enough to have her shift back before the other stuff arrives.” He leans over the bed and scoops up Leto, shushing her as she whines and wiggles. “You’re probably hungry, little one, let’s go see we can give you today.”

While not normally a morning person, Stiles is more awake because he wants to watch Leto. He wants to watch Peter with Leto, smiling at how effortless it seems to him to juggle his own coffee, a small wolf draped over his shoulder and a small package of ground meat.

“I’ll just fry this up and add a little milk. She should be able to eat it,” he says, and uses his chin to make sure she’s not wiggling around too much. “No biting, I know you’re starving, baby.”

“Do you want me to get her a bowl, or what can I do?” Stiles asks, trying to both stay out of the way and be helpful.

“That would be good, a small bowl and the smallest spoon you can find.”

Stiles reaches over Peter’s shoulder, giving his cheek a quick kiss as he grabs an appropriate bowl. “Spoon? We’re going to feed her with a spoon?”

“Of course. She’s a baby and the more we treat her like one, the more she’ll realize that it’ll be better to shift back.” Peter scrapes the meat into the bowl, spreading it out to help it cool while he gets a container of cream out of the fridge.

“Is she old enough or whatever to figure that out? Or is that just kind of built into wolves?”

Peter mixes up Leto’s breakfast and sits at the table with her on his lap. She doesn’t look particularly happy to be propped up against one of his arms, but apparently the smell of her breakfast encourages her to behave with only a little whining. “I think this is cool enough, now go slow,” he says to her, bringing the food to her mouth.

She has a little trouble getting the spoon in her mouth, the clink of her teeth against the metal making Stiles cringe. “I guess she’s getting it. Smells okay, too.”

“When she’s back to being a baby, we’ll see how old she is and adjust her diet as necessary. Even babies like meat.” He gives her another spoonful, muttering “Good girl,” as she lets him put the food in her mouth and doesn’t try to lick it off the spoon. “Do you want to try feeding her? Oh, and by the way, if anyone asks she’s Leto Stilinski.”

“Really?” Stiles steps forward with a grin, taking the girl and sitting on his favorite cushion on the couch: right in the middle so Peter can get him from either side. “Yeah, I’ll try feeding little Leto. And why isn’t she Leto Hale? I expected you’d want that and again, no one should be tagged Stilinski unless it’s required.”

“Because Hale is the name of a pack of wolves, my darling, and if some hunters were trying to kill her family…”

“Sure, that makes sense,” he says. He tries to get Leto to sit so he can feed her, but she keeps diving into the bowl, trying to lick up the soft mess - she tries to eat like a wolf cub.

“Nope,” Peter says, and sets her more firmly in Stiles’ lap, pushing a pillow by his side for both him and Leto to lean on. “She’s a baby girl and she’ll be rewarded for coming back to being a baby girl.”

“Harsh, dude.” He gives Leto another spoon and after a growl and a whine, she’s accepting the food as it’s spooned into her mouth. “Oh now she’s got it! But seriously?”

“Seriously, and I’m sorry, I know it feels bad, but this is what my parents and grandparents did if any of us refused to shift back.” He rests his chin on his mate’s shoulder to watch the baby eat, just a bit coming out of the sides of her mouth. “Of course, we weren’t traumatized – except the time when Talia chased me into a stream then ran away and I almost drowned.”

“Wow, that’s awful, what did your parents do?” He gives Peter the bowl to put on the end table and leans back into his chest. “Do I burp her?”

“No, but when you hold her, keep her belly up.” He’s quiet for a moment and finally says, “She won’t throw up. Probably.”

“Fabulous, thank you, Peter. And treat her like a baby, got it,” Stiles says. “So your sister tried to drown you? And then?”

“I didn’t drown, obviously. I shifted back to human and was able to walk out of the stream. It wasn’t that deep for a six year old, but deep and fast for a wolf cub.”

“What did you do then?”

Peter’s sigh is full of drama as he pulls his spouse and accidental baby against his chest. “Then, I scraped myself with some rocks so my clothes were torn. And I rubbed dirt on myself. And I stumbled home, in tears because beloved Talia abused her poor little brother.”

Leto sniffs at him and Stiles chuckles. “I guess that’s the smell of revenge and satisfaction, little Leto. And you, wolfie, you’ve always been a little shit, why am I not surprised?”

“Because you’re a great judge of character.” Peter pulls out his phone and flips through a few screens. “I’m going to go out and grab a couple of things and be back shortly. You can invite someone over if you’d like, but be sure they know. Baby girl, not baby girl wolf.”

“I’ll try, but damn, she’s adorable, Peter,” Stiles says, smiling at her glowing yellow eyes and soft, white belly fur. “I should call Dad and tell him he’s a grandfather.”

“Yes, the sooner he knows that we’ve adopted, the better.”

“Really? That’s what we’re going to say? What if we don’t have her long?”

Peter looks at them both, the small wolf dozing in his mate’s arms. “We can say we’re fostering her and if it sticks, we’ll say we were able to adopt her.” He kisses Stiles’ temple and says, “And be careful with the names. I know people know we’re together, but nothing with Hale. If we’re the nearest pack to her old pack, it would be obvious if a new Hale child suddenly showed up.”

Stiles moves to let Peter go if he has to. “Hey, I’m pretty famous too, in the supernatural world.”

“Yes, you are, darling. But that’s as The Boy who Runs with the Wolves or The Boy in Red or my favorite, The Boy with the Bat.” Peter’s eyes glow blue and his grin has a few too many teeth.

“I guess so, those are pretty good. It would lose something if it were The Stilinski in Red, wouldn’t it?”

Peter bends down to kiss both their heads before grabbing his keys and phone and heading to the door. “Call me if you need me and try not to worry too much.”  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leto meets a few pack members and our favorite couple is getting attached.

Peter isn’t gone more than ninety minutes, two hours tops. But he can hear voices while he’s still outside the house.

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” he calls, detouring to the kitchen to drop off his bags. “How is the baby and how many people are over exactly?”

“Hey, Peter! We’re in here!”

Stiles is in the middle of the couch with Malia on one side and Kira on the other. Peter’s fine with the two women being together. It seems to be steading for both of them and they really are good for each other; two non-wolves having found each other in a pack of werewolves.

Plus, Malia doesn’t hesitate to talk about when she was dating Stiles and it makes him very uncomfortable, especially since Peter’s enough of a dick to laugh about it. Honestly, he’s pretty secure about his relationship with Stiles.

Plus-plus, it makes Scoot uncomfortable to see his two ex-girlfriends are now a couple. Two of them and no Scoot. Sometimes Peter is surprised about how well these things work out.

He checks and Leto is in Kira’s lap, belly up with Kira gently rubbing the fur on her belly. Acceptable.

She’s also got a kitchen towel wrapped around her back legs, in something that might be resembling a diaper. Not Acceptable.

“Before you say anything, Peter, she’s peeing everywhere,” Stiles says, shoving closer to Malia so Peter can sit in between him and Kira. Kira who is holding their pup. “This was a last resort. I thought she got the bed wet last night, but now that she’s had a couple of meals, she’s like… I don’t know, man, she’s like a leaking balloon.”

Malia glares at him, familiar blue eyes shining. “Not just pee, Peter. She pooped on me. Poop. It was gross.”

“Well, babies will do that. And little wolf cubs aren’t exactly toilet trained. And little wolf cubs don’t get to wear diapers, if they make a mess then it’s on their fur and they have to live with it,” he says, taking Leto into his lap and removing the towel wrapped around her. “I brought home diapers, and some very tasty baby food and a couple of very cute rompers, if I do say so myself.” He holds Leto up so they’re practically nose to nose and says, “I bet you’re a blondie, little one. A little blue-eyed blonde girl, and we can’t wait to see you.”

Malia watches her birth father being tender with the little wolf cub. “So she doesn’t want to shift? Like she’s scared or something?”

Peter nods and brings her to his chest, rubbing his chin over her head as she slips in to nuzzle his neck. Scenting, just like children would with their alpha. “I’m afraid so. She’s had a rough couple of days, I think, but she’s fine here. Safe and with pack and family.” His smile to Malia is soft, one he reserves for those he trusts and doesn’t need to pretend with. They’ll never be a normal father and daughter, but she’s pack and that’s more than enough. “It’s scary for any child to be lost in the woods, but she’s probably not even able to walk when she shifts back. She would have shifted to her cub shape and most likely just stumbled out as far away from the hunters as she could. Not because she really understood who or what they are, but just because of the noise and scent from her parents.” He kisses the top of her head and murmurs, “Lovely little Leto, such a brave girl.”

Kira reaches behind Peter and brushes her hand on Malia’s cheek. “Is there anything we can do to help, Peter? Stiles?”

Shrugging, Stiles turns to his husband. “Maybe I think too much of myself, but I think things are okay now. When she turns back through…”

“Yeah, when will that be? If you remember, I was a coyote for more than a couple of days,” Malia states totally unnecessarily. “Do you know that she’ll turn back? How long can she stay like this? Should you let her back outside or something?”

“I don’t know when she’ll turn, but they always do.” Peter says, and hands Leto over to Stiles. He smiles at the two girls, which might be a little chilling. “I think when she does turn back into her cute baby self we may need someone to help every now and then. Babies do require a lot of work and it might be helpful to have a little back up. That’s what packs are for.”

“So when she’s a little girl we can come over and babysit? Or something?” Kira’s practically bouncing in her seat as she asks, squeezing her girlfriend’s hand. “We can do that. Right, Malia?”

Malia shrugs and says, “Sure, if you want. I mean, it’s a baby, right? They’re not all that interesting. They pee and poop and don’t do much.”

Peter watches as Stiles smiles and kisses Leto on the back of her head. He doesn’t know by scent, but he knows Malia and knows she’s almost as excited as her partner. “No, babies, even werewolf babies, don’t do much. They don’t even need to,” Stiles says, pulling her up to nuzzle between her new parents. Their child.

After the girls leave, Peter takes Stiles into their spare room and shows him what he bought, pulling things out and spreading them on the bed. “Not much today, as I said, just enough.” Stiles looks at the diapers in different sizes, tiny pajamas, onesies, and an assortment of bottles and pacifiers.

“Binkies!” Stiles coos, picking up a package and tearing it open. He shows it to Leto, who leans towards it. “Apparently, you need to be our baby girl again, before you get the binkie. Not my rule, but I do agree.”

“Can’t wait to see you.” Peter uses a claw to quickly take the clothes out of their packages and to take off tags. “I’ll get these washed and just stack them in here. Tomorrow, she’ll have a dresser and we’ll have a place to store all this stuff. Although more washing when the bulk of items come.”

“You sound pretty sure that we’ll be keeping her for a while.” Stiles tries not to sound excited about the possibility, but he knows Peter can hear his heart and smell his anxiousness. “I mean, it’s fine if we do keep her for a bit. Better than fine, actually. I’m looking forward to – “ He shrugs and continues, “Is it weird that I’m really okay with this? We’ve never talked about us having kids.”

Peter sets Leto down on the bed and smiles softly, watching as she stumbles around the stacks of clothes sniffing everything. “No, we haven’t. I guess I am thinking we’ll get to keep her for a while; if her whole pack was killed, who would want to take her? Even if there’s a packmate who isn’t a relative still alive, that doesn’t mean they’d be able to take care of her. It’s logical that we’re a longer-term solution for her.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Stiles wraps his arms around Peter, tilting his head so the wolf can have a good nose full of his mate. “I’m sorry, I’m probably going to say this wrong, but I know you lost a child in the fire and, I don’t know, I mean, is this going to trigger you or something?”

Peter shakes his head and Stiles can feel him chuckling against his throat. Before he can say anything else, Peter says, “Darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, I know you were being – kind. No, I’m not triggered in any way. Yes, I miss Devlin and I’m sure I always will, but it doesn’t keep me from wanting to move forward. With you of course, in case you didn’t understand.” Peter steps back and kisses Stiles, just a gentle peck before turning back to the mess on the bed.

“So all this is going into the wash, right?” Stiles moves aside a couple of items and finds Leto asleep in the small stack of blankets, with a sock in her mouth. “Oh and she’s probably peed on it. She’s peed on everything Peter, which is why we were trying to create a diaper. For a baby with a tail.”

“A little pee never hurt anyone, I mean how much is it, a tablespoon at a time?” Peter leans over and scoops her up, using his chin to direct Stiles to the items on the bed. “Can you get those started on gentle and a double rinse, please? I’ll take her for a quick bath in the kitchen sink.”

“Oh man! Take your time, I need pictures.” Stiles shouts to his husband’s back. “Oh yeah, she peed here!”

After everything’s done and everyone is clean and clothes are folded and out of reach, the pair make their way to the bedroom and Leto’s immediately put in the middle again.

“When she has the crib, she’ll sleep in it, right? I mean, little girl Leto will? Is little pup Leto going to continue to sleep with us?” Stiles asks and pulls the towel under the wolf cub a little closer to him. “I haven’t read a lot on the care and feeding of baby werewolves – didn’t seem to be a reason before.”

Peter sighs, and snuffles closer to the cub and his spouse, stretching out his legs so Stiles can put his cold feet on them. “If you want books, I have some. Otherwise, we’ll do like all first time parents. We’re gonna wing it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leto becomes a little girl and everyone falls in love with her.

The next couple of days are more of the same, but with a lot of furniture in between. There’s no time to paint the baby’s room, which used to be a mostly unused guest room, but the pale green seems to work pretty well for her, and goes with the dark mahogany furniture. 

“Kind of, um, serious for a baby, isn’t it?” Erica asks, sitting with a stack of onesies that need folding. It seems Peter might have purchased a hundred. “I mean the furniture, it’s dark and kind of serious. I know it’s your taste, Peter, but she’s just a baby…”

“And babies grow up and become children, who become teenagers and young adults. What did you want, Erica, something painted pink?” Peter asks, looking through the pile of screws on the floor in front of him. Some assembly required. And everything is being assembled in the middle of the living room so there’s plenty of room to decide what will go where. “This will grow with her and I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” He turns to Lydia, in the kitchen, organizing shelves with baby items. “Lydia, do tell us what your nursery was like.”

She slows, but doesn’t stop and calls over her shoulder,. “From the pictures, it was very nice. Mother had cherry wood in the room. Very pretty. I still have one dresser.”

Stiles picks up a mobile he put together and goes into the guest room – No, he goes into Leto’s room – because this might be hung over her new crib. “God help us all,” he says.

It’s a week to the day when they wake up to giggles instead of growls.

“Hey, Peter,” Stiles whispers, poking Peter in the shoulder. “Come on, wake up and look at Leto!”

Peter cracks open an eye and looks to where the tiny cub went to bed last night, sleeping in between their pillows. Now there’s a small girl looking back at him, flashing golden eyes and showing all four of her teeth. “Well, well, well. Aren’t you a sight, little one?” He smiles and then says to Stiles, “She’s not only a sight, she’s a smell.” Peter flops over on his back, grimacing when Leto’s tiny hand grabs his hair. “And now, the real work begins.”

Somehow it’s like getting back on the bike or the horse or whatever. Whatever it’s supposed to be, Peter and Stiles fall into an easy rhythm taking care of Leto.

“She’s a baby, Stiles, don’t make her beg for her bottle.”

“I’m not, Peter! She’s just so anxious, I think that maybe she could – hey!” Stiles pulls his hand away, looking at the little holes in his thumb from tiny sharp teeth.

Leto’s eyes are bright yellow before shutting contentedly, grunting as she holds the bottle to her mouth, squirming further into the couch cushions.

“Is she supposed to be able to do that? She’s just a baby, should she be able to hold her own bottle?” Stiles asks his spouse.

Smoothing her blonde curls, Peter grins at his mate. “She’s both smart and precocious. She’s maybe a little ahead of her age, but not by much, I’d guess.” He looks wistful for a moment before plastering a smile back on his face. “As I said, wolves age differently than humans. We grow very quickly when we’re young – the idea is to be able to defend yourself if needed. Much like she did, being able to shift and hide herself from danger.”

“So what are you telling me, she’s going to be a teenager by the weekend? Do we have to start buying things for her freshman dorm?”

Peter pulls his mate into a hug and waits until Stiles’ scent softens and his heartbeat quiets back to normal. Still fast for a human, but Peter knows it’s Stiles – the rhythm he’d know anywhere.

“Darling, you need to take a breath. She’s going to be a little girl for mostly the normal years. As in, she’ll be a baby for too long and not enough. And she’ll be an awkward pre-teen and a horrible teenager, at least in our eyes.” He kisses Stiles’ forehead and brushes unruly hair out of his eyes. “And we’ll love her anyway and hope for the best and teach her as much as possible because she’s a baby. Maybe there’s a few – tweaks – for you to learn, but she’s just a baby, Stiles. Teeth and flashing eyes notwithstanding.”

Stiles rests in his arms for a minute, trying to calm down, listening and liking the small noises Leto makes on the couch behind him. “Okay, Peter. I guess I’ll figure it out between you and Leto and maybe other kids in the pack.”

“What kids?” he asks because Stiles smells so happy. And looking over his shoulder, he can see Leto sucking furiously on her bottle.

Stiles shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “Whatever kids there might be. You know, maybe Erica and Boyd. Hey, who knows, maybe Cora might decide to settle down and do the whole family thing someday, right?” They both turn back to watch the baby. Leto’s almost finished her bottle and her eyelids are drooping with a bit of formula running down her chin. “I hope she has a pack to grow up with.”

“She will, we’ll make sure of it,” Peter says, bending down to pick up Leto, expertly putting her over a shoulder and rubbing her back for a burp. Somehow, Peter manages to have a towel over his shoulder, something Stiles had to learn. “For now, she needs a clean-up and a nap. And while that’s going on, why don’t you take a nap, too. You look exhausted.”

“Maybe a little tired.” He sits on arm of the sofa watching his husband and this new baby. He and Peter have been together for years now, and he couldn’t love him any more than he does. But this baby, this new baby? He’s known her for about a week and can’t imagine life without her. And that’s probably not good.

“Sweetheart? You okay?”

Damn sniffy wolves. “I am, just thinking about how I like having her here. And how hot you look holding a baby.”

“We are a very attractive family,” Peter agrees, over his shoulder, carrying the baby to the bathroom and the tub that fits in the bathroom sink. “You didn’t doubt I’d be a DILF, did you?”

Stiles freezes in his tracks and watches Peter shaking his butt as he goes into Leto’s room. “I only need a quick nap. You give her a bath and come and take care of me for a bit.”

“A Daddy’s work is never done,” he answers with a theatrical sigh, not mentioning the scent that floats past him.

A few days later, Stiles shows Peter his phone. Just in case Peter thinks he’s lying. “Dad wants to see Leto this weekend.”

“He’s pretty attached to her, wouldn’t you agree?”

Peter is looking pretty smug and Stiles is thinking of smacking him, just on principle. “How could he not be? I’m his only child holding a baby who might be the only baby Dad’s gonna hold, you know? I mean, unless I find a ‘create a baby in a guy’ spell.”

“With the accompanying ‘get the baby out of the guy without killing him’ spell,” Peter finishes. He hands over the phone without really looking at it, but appreciating the gesture. “I’m glad he’s enjoying her and even more glad you are, too. I like her very much. She feels like ours, she feels like pack.”

“She is ours.” Stiles swings his legs out of bed, struggling into boxers and a t-shirt that were dropped on the floor. “Until someone proves that they’re blood-family and can do a better job than we do.”

Peter heads to the shower, knowing his mate will handle morning coffee and the first of many bowls of the werewolf-version of baby food that goes with the bottles. “No one will do a better job than you do, darling.” Stiles probably won’t be able to hear it, but Peter knows their bond will send his love.

It’s two months and they still have baby Leto and she’s fully one of the pack now. With people coming in to see her and trips to visit other pack members, so she gets used to everyone’s scents in their surroundings.

“How can she be walking? She’s how old, like seven months or something?” Noah asks. His surprise at Leto’s abilities doesn’t stop him from enjoying her and hogging her when he can. He hovers behind her, letting her grab a steadying finger as she stumbles from couch to chair to ottoman and coffee table. “Does she do this at home as well? Is this her first time, probably not, right?”

“Umm, she’s doing the walk-stumble thing like this,” Stiles says, never taking his eyes off her. Yes, his father helped raise a child (duh) but Leto is even faster and has the potential be sneakier than Stiles ever was. “Maybe not attacking every piece of furniture.”

Peter chuckles and holds out his hands to Leto, letting her use him as the next stopping point before she gets to the television stand. “Careful, darling, I’m sure Grandpa wouldn’t like it if you pulled that down.”

“I hope she’s not strong enough yet. Or clumsy enough, if that’s the case.” They sit back and watch for a minute as Leto continues to bounce around the room, touching everything and making tiny coos or growls, for no apparent reason. “You know,” Noah says, eyes glued to Leto, “I’m not really her Grandpa. I would love to be, but remember, people are out there looking for her family. I know Chris is looking and he’s not a bad detective.”

“I’m sure he’s not.” Peter mutters, barely loud enough for Noah to hear. “Hunters are detectives after all – they find werewolves and generally, try to kill us. Packs are closing ranks. Leto’s pack was killed by hunters and now a hunter who swears he had nothing to do with their deaths is trying to get more information about their pack. It could appear like he’s trying to clean up anyone left.”

Noah shakes his head and sighs; he knows his son-in-law’s past, all of it and his well-deserved feelings about hunters. “You know that’s not true, of course. Not Chris. I know that his family –”

He doesn’t get to finish before Stiles jumps in, saying, “Chris is a good guy, we trust him. Other packs might not though.” He scoops up Leto and kisses her head before turning to Peter. “You didn’t tell any packs not to talk to Chris, did you? I know you talked to a few that we’re on good terms with.”

“Of course not.” Peter doesn’t as far as putting a hand on his chest, but he does look extremely affronted. “I contacted a few people I know, told them about our lost little pup and asked them to spread the word. In fact,” he says, nodding to both Stilinskis, “I told them that they might hear from an Argent and I said he can be trusted. I asked them to pass on anything they knew. Happy?”

“That’s very helpful of you, thank you, Peter.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling a bit suspicious,” Stiles says, head tilted as he studies Peter. “Anything else you want to share?”

Peter manages to snag Leto the next time she stumbles towards him and puts her on the couch between the two of them. “The packs I spoke with didn’t know of any children that sound like her. She’s young, depending on the pack, they might make a celebration or some still like to keep things quiet. Just in case. And I think we said there’s no established pack by where Chris found her – so they were passing through or planning to establish themselves. Or left a bigger pack. It could be any number of things and I’m just not sure she’ll be found.”

Noah nods and asks, “You two will be okay with that? If it were to happen.”

“I think we’ve both agreed we’d be more than happy to keep her.” Stiles leans over and kisses Leto’s head again and barely avoids getting smacked in the chin. “I mean, yeah, she’s a handful and I guess I thought that we’d have some time to agree to have a kid, and then get ready and used to the idea, but…”

“You love her,” Peter states. “So I do, actually. She just feels like ours, I can’t explain it. And now she’s scent-marked your house so I think it means she’s staying.

“She’s great,” Noah pushes himself out of his easy chair and clasps both men on their shoulders as he passes them on his way to the kitchen. “I just don’t want to see either of you get hurt. Any of you.”

Stiles is quiet on the way home, unusually so.

“Darling, are you okay?” Peter asks. He takes an exaggerated sniff, letting Stiles know he’s checking his mood. “You’ve been quiet since we left your father’s.”

He shrugs and looks over his shoulder into the back seat. Leto seat is belted in so she’s facing the away from them, but when they’re both quiet, they can hear her quiet snores. “Just thinking about how we’re used to her. Dad’s used to her. And there’s people out there who may want to take her away from us.”

Peter waits a minute to see if there’s anything additional Stiles wants to say. When he falls quiet, Peter says, “I could kill Chris, if you think that would help. He wouldn’t be able to keep looking for her family.”

“Oh, thank you, wolfie, that’s sweet to offer, but I think that’s probably not a good idea.” He holds out his hands, signaling ‘stop’ and adds, “I’m sure you could and get away with it, but he’s not a bad guy overall. And it’s good to have a connection with hunters so we can get the scoop on what’s going on. Plus, I like Allison.”

The wolf snorts and pulls the car into their garage, putting a hand on his mate’s arm. “Okay, if you insist, but just remember I’m doing it – or not doing it – for you. And the most important thing is, she is our child now. No one, and I mean no one, will take her away from us.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack spends time with the Stilinski-Hale family.
> 
> I just felt like writing cute things with packs and babies.

It’s interesting watching over the months how the pack reacts to Leto and how that changes when she’s no longer a novelty.

Lydia comes over as she always has, sweeping in for a visit, dropping off and picking up spell books and other things from Peter’s library. “It’s the least you can do, and I do mean the very least,” she states, giving Stiles a kiss on the cheek and Peter gets a tight smile.

Now she’s a bit warmer to Peter, perhaps. It’s Leto’s doing -- the way she lights up when anyone in the pack comes over seems to make everyone a little cheerier.

“I swear she likes you best.” Stiles positions Leto on a chair, arranging her just right so she won’t topple over. It’s also important the new outfit Lydia brought over is shown to its best advantage. “She doesn’t like shoes, but she does like you.”

Peter catches a tiny black patent leather shoe as it sails towards his head. “No, she certainly doesn’t like shoes. Most wolves don’t, if it’s not required.” He looks down at his own bare feet and over to Stiles who also lost his shoes and socks somewhere in the house. “Stiles doesn’t like shoes either. I think it’s the magic in him.”

He snorts and tugs off Leto’s remaining socks, straightening out her dress again so they can get a quick picture or two. “Or it’s because you painted my toe nails the other day and I think they’re pretty.”

“You deserve each other,” Lydia says. She takes a couple of pictures on her phone and then on the phone Stiles hands her. “And when can we paint Leto’s nails? I’m thinking a pretty, soft pink.”

Leto just grins and grabs a pillow, trying to push the entire thing into her mouth.

“If there’s something that’s child-friendly and doesn’t smell like chemicals, you’re welcome to try.” Peter smiles as he flips through the pictures he took on his own phone. His daughter’s hair is slipping out of the barrette on one side and she’s managed to tear the lace on her collar with a quick claw. She’s a perfect little wolf. “Not sure if you’ll get finger nails or claws to paint, but good luck and we have a box of bandages in each bathroom.”

Isaac, Erica and Boyd come over only every week or so. Leto’s made it clear she doesn’t like Isaac; she didn’t like him from the first scent and when he tries to hold her, she growls the whole time. And there’s that one time she bit him on the arm and wouldn’t let go.

“Erica! Get her off me!” Isaac shakes his arm, a small blonde girl in a small flowered onesie hanging on his arm, mid-way between his wrist and elbow.

She reaches up and claws out, grabs ahold of Isaac’s arm as his eyes grow wider, both with their shining yellow eyes. 

“We’ve told you to avoid her,” Boyd says, grabbing Leto by the back of her onesie and pulling her up and off. It’s a proven technique, much like you’d do with a kitten. “She hates you, man.”

Isaac shoots a look over to Stiles who just grins, watching the teeth and claw marks on Isaac’s arms heal. He sweeps in and cuddles Leto to his chest. “Good girl,” he says, kissing her head as she growls against his chest. “You know what’s what, right?”

“See?” Boyd says to Erica. “Wolf babies. Hard to control and biters, probably.” He pointedly looks at her chest and asks, “You really want that? I mean, come on…”

Shrugging, she pulls Leto away from Stiles and plops down on the couch, wiping a stray blood drop off her chin. “Our baby would be a saint, Boyd, a saint. Nice, like you.” She kisses Leto’s head, leaving a bit of lipstick over Stiles’ scent. “But not now, we should wait until after college at least. The last thing we need is my Abuela coming for you. You would wish she was just an alpha or something.”

“I’ve met her and she is pretty fierce. Oh, and she’s told me Hawaii is a good place for a honeymoon.”

Erica laughs and Stiles is happy to see the pack genuinely relaxed around his family. “You guys are thinking that someday, you might…”

Erica feigns to the left so Stiles can’t take Leto and holds her hand as they stumble/run towards the hallway leading towards bedroom and more chaos. “Your kid is awesome, Stiles, you make me want one of my own. Someday.”

There’s a moment of silence before anyone can respond and then a crash and Erica calling out, “We’re good, no harm done.” There’s a pause and they hear, “No real harm done, nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Kira and Malia come over pretty frequently. “She’d be visiting every day, if we had time.”

“You said it was okay for us to come over.” Kira looks to Stiles, and back to Malia. Leto can feel her confusion and anxiousness and turns to Peter, eyes flashing.

He flashes back at her and feels the fledgling pack bond in his chest twitch. “We love having you over and you can come over anytime,” he says, smiling at both women.

Malia, as usual, gives a quick smile and turns away, suddenly distracted by something or anything in the room. Emotions aren’t things she shares easily. Like father, like daughter.

Kira is a bit more like Stiles, and similar to his own marriage, they balance each other out. “Oh, good, you know I miss every day with her.” Kira crawls after the toddler, at the same level, which Leto seems to enjoy.

“Anytime,” Peter repeats. He glances at Stiles and his mate is in the kitchen, nodding furiously. “We thought you should have a key to the apartment. Not like we’d leave her alone and you might decide to stumble over, and just find our daughter to take care of.”

Stiles walks by, dropping a kiss to the top of Peter’s head as he crowds Malia in her chair. “He’s bad at it, but if you need a kid fix, just give us a ring and if we’re here, you’re invited.

She looks at the key her ex-boyfriend presses in her hand. “Okay. I’ll give it to Kira to keep track of. And don’t be surprised if she comes over here for a quick baby hug.” Her words are a little sharp, but both Peter and Stiles notice how her eyes soften as she looks at her girlfriend or partner or whatever they call themselves. Malia doesn’t like labels.

Kira’s totally tuned them out and is on the floor with Leto, gently pulling a building block out of her mouth. “Okay, I know this is soft,” she whispers, squeezing the knitted square Stiles found on Etsy, “but you can’t just eat everything. No, you can’t. No, Leto, no eating everything, your Daddies will worry and…” She looks up and sees everyone smiling as they watch. “Everything okay?”

Peter grips Stiles’ hand before standing and making his way into the kitchen. “Everything’s fine, dear, I’m just going to go and figure out what to make for dinner.”

“Oh, well we don’t want to interrupt, we can leave and…”

Stiles rolls his eyes and tumbles down to the floor, tugging on Malia’s leg until she falls down with them. “Don’t be silly, Peter’s cooking for everyone.”

He gets one second with Leto before Malia takes her, flashing her eyes and growling at the girl. “Do you get buttered noodles, Leto? Babies like that, right? You should ask for beef,” Malia states. “Your papa is a good cook.”

“I’ll make stroganoff.” Peter calls out. “Noodles and beef for everyone.” He starts dinner, sure there’s a stupid smile on his face watching and listening to the growls and giggles from the living room

Cora kidnaps Leto at least once a week. That’s what Peter called it the first time he came home and found Stiles asleep on the couch and his daughter gone.

“Darling, my love?” He’d like to kick the side of the couch and really wake Stiles up, but with a baby, they both catch a bit of sleep when they can. This might be the exception, however. “Stiles my dear, my heart, did you lose our child?”

Stiles stretches like a cat in the sun and grins. “Nope. You niece came over…” he checks his watch says, “Good, it was like 40 minutes ago, and she’s going to be gone for like another 90 minutes.”

“Where’d they go?”

“Cora told me they were going to go out and bond.” He shrugs and holds a hand out towards Peter. “She’s your niece and she was giving me those broody eyebrows, and I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Peter shows his teeth, sharp with a bit of his shift. “Mind? Having 90 minutes with my spouse, home alone? I’m delighted, this needs to become a thing.”

“Agree, but if I’m here, I’ll be sure to get more information about where they’re going and stuff.”

“Not sure you want to know about your baby daughter someplace in the preserve eating a squirrel or some other rodent.” Peter lies down, head resting on Stiles shoulder. “30 minutes to sleep, 30 minutes for sex and then another 30 of sleep?”

“You’re the smartest man I know.”

Cora does indeed take Leto into the preserve and they chase each other as well as a woman in her twenties and a ten-month old can.

“I promise, guys, we don’t shift.” Cora rolls her eyes at Peter’s questions. “I’m not stupid, we don’t know yet how much she understands and if she’s able to shift herself back on command.” She takes a sip of her coffee and breaks a chunk of donut off for Leto. “I’m not an idiot, Peter.”

Leto picks up on the general mood in the room. Cora angry and defensive, Peter annoyed and Stiles trying to stay out of family drama. She grabs Cora’s hand and little fangs bite her thumb.

“No chipmunks for you next time,” Cora says, shaking a finger at Leto who growls back.

Stiles tosses a wet paper towel at Cora and picks up Leto, kissing her messy curls. “More things I did not need to know. And we’re going to brush your teeth.”

Derek is completely smitten. There’s no other word for it.

He’s big and tough in his leather jacket with the swagger and angry eyebrows, but every time he gets in the same room with her, his true marshmallow nature comes out. Cora may like running around, growling and rooting in the shrubs for little animals for Leto to eat, but Derek likes things quiet. Quiet and sweet and gentle.

He’s the one who comes over at least weekly, bringing a new toy or a book so they can sit quietly as he reads the same storybooks to her over and over.

“Sometimes I find myself repeating ‘Goodnight Moon’ in my head,” Stiles says, folding laundry in the living room. There’s endless rompers and Stiles loves her tiny, flowery t-shirts, even though he has to do a load of wash just about every day. “Either that or ‘Where is Baby’s Belly Button?’ which, you have to admit, is kind of a weird thing to get stuck in your head. You can’t just wander around the grocery store muttering ‘Where are baby’s eyes’ and not get weird looks.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that’s why you get weird looks. And I bring over new books, but she likes her favorite bedtime stories.” Derek takes the bottle from Leto and rubs her back until she burps, loud and rather wet. Derek handles this very well with the towel he picked up the minute he enters the house. As soon as he’s wiped her mouth and put her up against his neck she’s asleep. “Hey,” he whispers to Stiles, “when she wakes up, do you think I can give her her bath?” He nuzzles her temple, and only grimaces, but doesn’t pull away when she reaches up and grabs a handful of chest hair. “Not that you’re stinky, but you are a little stinker. Yeah, that’s you, stinker.”

“You, Derek, are the biggest softie in the state, probably even the country.” Stiles puts all their folded clothes into the laundry basket and goes towards the hallway so he can put everything into the right room. “Softie Wolf. You’re the exact opposite of Cora.”

“Cora’s a meanie, isn’t she? And you’re a sweetie, you are my sweet cousin and you’re sweet and stinky,” he whispers to the baby, now held against his chest. She’s in the right position that she can still grab some hair, and he can lean down and kiss her head.

Later, Peter might have his shirt off when he sits with Leto getting ready for bed and maybe it’s to make sure that the last thing she smells like is them, not anyone else from the pack.

“I’d forgotten how much Derek likes children.”

Stiles doesn’t have a werewolf’s nose and can’t smell his spouse’s pheromones, but he knows him. He’s thinking back to the old life, back to the pack he had during the fire. His opinion of Talia changes quite often; sometimes he remembers the older sister who was able to distract their father when he was angry with Peter. Sometimes he thinks of the gullible and possibly arrogant alpha who didn’t believe him when he told her they were getting complacent. Of course, Talia stole the memories of Malia, making him miss the chance of actually being a father to her.

Tonight though, seems to be one of those times when he’s thinking fondly of family and the pack he lost. Being angry with them is almost better, Stiles thinks.

“Yeah, at least Derek seems to have a soft spot for Leto.” Stiles sits on the couch next to Peter, pressed against his side so he can keep a hand on both his wolves. “You said he was close with his little brother.”

“Hmm.” Peter tucks his face down, taking a breath of Stiles’ hair. “Hmm, yes. Both Cora and Daniel would follow him around like little ducks. He loved it until he was, hm, thirteen – fourteen?”

“Teenagers, am I right?” He sits quietly for a couple more minutes and finally says, “So maybe we need to get Derek a girlfriend so he can settle down and have cubs of his own? I’m still voting for Braeden to return, what do you think?”

Peter’s quiet for so long that Stiles isn’t sure he’ll answer; it might be one of those nights.

“Braeden? Smart, loyal as long as it works for her. I already vetted her once, I can just do an update.” He nods and stands, letting Stiles push him up a little so he doesn’t wake up Leto. “You need a cousin, darling. Or I guess a second cousin?” He waits a second and holds out a hand to Stiles so they can put her down in her crib together and go to bed. “Give people another child to try to steal. This one is ours.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't be too relaxed when you're supposed to be finding Leto's "real parents".

Stiles and Peter both keep track of the investigation to find any family for Leto, although they don’t always discuss it with each other. It makes it personal.

Peter’s contacts are from other packs, some that have been allies with the Hale pack for years and others are new contacts since the fire. As he’s told Stiles, he may not be loved, but he is respected and he gets information when it’s available. “You just have to be willing to reciprocate and look for information when you can.”

“That’s you. Mr. Research Everything.”

Peter just cocks an eyebrow and snorts. “Well then, Mr. Pot, have _you_ learned anything new?”

Of course, Stiles gets information his father is willing to offer and when that runs out, information from whatever county databases he can hack into. At this point, Noah’s given up trying to keep Stiles out, especially when it’s something that affects him personally.

Peter has Leto on a harness, which might be a little strange in the house, but at least it’s helpful to let them know when she’s climbing up the curtains. “You were checking with Argent, weren’t you?”

Stiles gets up and picks Leto up off the bookcase and looks her in the eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just gives her a raised eyebrow. And of course, her tiny lip trembles. “Little liar,” he says to her, kissing her forehead and setting her back down. “She’s going to do that again, you know. I give her ten minutes.”

“Five,” Peter offers and they watch Leto turn her back on them, and stare at the bookcase, her own personal Everest. “Anything with Argent or are you trying to avoid that question?”

“He and Allison have been out of town, and Scott says she’s leading tracking down the pack.”

Leto abandons the book case but crawls up and over things and runs around the living room, making noises they hope will turn into words, until she’s wrapped her leash around both the floor lamp and the coffee table. She cries for about 30 seconds, then falls asleep on the floor.

“Just watching her exhausts me.” Stiles kneels next to her, unsnapping the leash and straightening out her leg so it’s not twisted underneath her. “I’m going to just lie down here with her for a minute. Just a quick nap, okay?”

“Of course,” Peter says, taking the blanket they keep over the arm of the sofa and draping it over his husband and child. He pauses and listens to them breathe, waiting until Stiles is snoring softly. “Guess I’ll wait for an update. No point in looking for trouble. It’ll find us.”

“Okay, boys, thanks for coming in for a nice, civilized talk.” Noah points to a pair of chairs on one side of his desk, directly across from where Scott and Chris Argent are sitting. “That means no claws or teeth and no unnecessary backflips and no guns pulled out of who knows where and no tasers that can take down an elephant. Just nice conversation, understood?”

There’s a bit of grimacing and of course Peter and Stiles both roll their eyes. “Hey Dad, what, nothing for me? I’m just the lowly, boring human?”

Noah sighs and sits on the edge of his desk between the two pairs. They have the most space he can manage between them while still being in the same room. “Okay, Stiles, no excessive sarcasm and try not to break anyone’s face when you flail. That sufficient? And no magic, I thought that went without saying. Remember the urinals?”

“Rude. Why are we here? I’m guessing Chris has news?”

Chris nods to the Sheriff letting him know he’s ready to start. “Yes, I have a bit of an update from Allison. As you know, she’s been investigating what happened and who the pack is that we’re assuming the baby came from.”

“Leto,” Peter interrupts. “She’s not a random baby, she’s a werewolf whose parents and pack were murdered, for no reason, by hunters. We’re calling her Leto.”

“Leto?” Chris snorts and shakes his head. “Why don’t you just get a sign that says, ‘Werewolves here’?”

“That doesn’t sound very safe, does it? Not with genocidal hunters around. And I would think you might know Leto is the mother of Apollo and Artemis. One of the Titans, Chris.”

Noah holds up his hands, gesturing that everyone should stop. “Let’s stick to facts, okay. I don’t support arguing about children’s names, okay? What did Allison find out?”

“It appears there was a Hanson pack, originally from Canada, and moving to Washington State someplace. A small pack, pretty nomadic and they were trying to find a permanent home, I guess.” He sighs and for those who can tell, his scent is regretful. “They haven’t been seen or heard from for several months. It seems there were probably nine in the pack, at least that’s the last report. Including a baby. Who is probably Leto. Allison is still trying to get names, but as you can guess, there’s only so much information she can find. They weren’t established and besides, not everyone is willing to talk with her.”

“Do you know them, have you heard of them?” Noah asks Peter. His tone is polite, befitting questioning his son-in-law. “Hanson pack, spelled S-O-N. Maybe from Canada? Are there a lot of connections between the US and packs from other countries?”

“We’ve had treaties with packs in Canada. And Europe, although that’s not relevant here.” Peter looks at Stiles and then away rubbing his goatee. “No, I don’t remember any Hanson pack, not in the US or Canada. Common name, nothing easily remembered. This side of the country, with relatively more space, does get packs trying to establish themselves, so maybe that _is_ what they were doing. Traveling, looking for a relatively empty place to permanently settle.” He shrugs and says, “Not totally uncommon, especially with such a small group. Two smallish packs can easily be border to border.”

Chris glances at Scott and he gives a quick nod.

Before anyone says anything else, Peter leans forward in his chair and stares at Chris. “What was that? Just exactly what _was_ that, Christopher? You’re using Scoot here to see if I’m lying? Is that your idea, is that why the boy wonder is here?”

“I’m here,” Scott says, with his jaw clenching, “I’m here because I’m the alpha of the territory.”

Peter rolls his eyes when Scott’s flash red, turning towards Stiles. “Why didn’t I bite you? You know you were the one I was trying to get. Your smell,” Peter says and growls.

“Aww, that’s sweet, honey.” Stiles takes Peter’s hand and rubs his knuckles until his claws retract. Which is about when Noah opens his eyes.

“Scott, as your brother, I’m saying that’s an asshole thing to do. To my husband. He wouldn’t lie, not about this.”

“We didn’t think he would, and now it’s confirmed. No offense meant, let’s just get on with it.” Chris says, holding his arm in front of Scott, like a mom braking suddenly in her sedan. “Okay, you’re not familiar with that pack, do you think you can check around? If that’s convenient. I’ll see if there’s any more information I can find. Now that there’s a name, some other hunters may recognize it or know something.”

“I’ll check.” It’s a short answer, but it’s Peter’s commitment.

“You guys still doing good with little Leto?” Scott’s been over occasionally, not with any schedule and he doesn’t stay long. It’s probably not his fault, the scent of dogs and cats is embedded in his skin and Leto either gets confused or angry. One time, he managed to hold her, but that was probably because Stiles had his arms around the both of them and coo’d at her the entire time, distracting her when she would growl. “Do you think she’d like me more if I brought her a toy or some food or something? Derek gloats about how much she likes him.”

“Derek is always bringing her stuff, but you don’t need to.” Stiles shrugs and says, “Just drop by, man, she needs to get more familiar with your stink. You’re always welcome. If someone else in the pack is over, you’ll just have to take turns with her. Or maybe, you know, we could actually talk about something not baby.”

Scott nods. “Will do, I’ll text you. I gotta get to work, we’ve got follow-up on a bowel blockage in about,” he looks at his watch and grabs his jacket and phone, heading for the door. “In about fifteen minutes, I gotta go!”

Chris’ departure is much less hectic, but includes a handshake from Noah and a small nod from both Peter and Stiles. Stiles doesn’t hate Chris, but he supports his spouse, so a nod is the best he can do. 

Stiles chews on a hangnail until Peter gently takes his hand from his mouth and puts it back on his leg. “I don’t know this means much, Noah. What do you think?”

“Hanson is a pretty common name. Without knowing where they started, it’s hard to even determine who I should connect with.”

Stiles nods anxiously and says, “Yeah and we don’t know anyone’s first name either, so that makes it hard to track as well. To be honest with you, I don’t know that’s helpful at all. Probably not able to track down the parents in the someone Hanson pack who had a child with no known name.”

But of course, I’ll see what I can find out.” Peter smiles at his husband who is glaring knives at him. “That way, darling, we can close this, officially apply for adoption and move on with our lives.”

Heaving a breath, Stiles jumps out of his chair and starts pacing. “I hate this. I hate all of this, the waiting and the the the – trying to find ‘her family’. She has a family. She has a family and a pack and a grandfather!”

“I know, it is frustrating.” Peter puts his arm around Stiles, pulling him against his chest. He can hide his face for a minute and be surrounded by Peter – and Leto’s – scents. “It’s a wait and you know I’m not exactly the most patient person on the planet…”

Noah snorts, showing where his son got it from. “No, you might not be in the top ten. Actually, either of you.”

“Okay, but I never pretended to be patient, Dad, but seriously, we’ve had her for months now. We should celebrate her one-year birthday.” He turns to Peter, clutching his arm. “Her birthday, Peter! We don’t know when her birthday is and she could be one already!”

“And that, my moon, is why we find out who she is, tell them ‘thank you very much’ and then we keep her.”

Noah shakes his head and slumps back into his office chair. “Hey come on, guys, at least _try_ not to say anything I’d have to repeat later in court, okay?”

“I meant nothing by that,” Peter says, holding his hands up in surrender, angelic look on his face. “All I meant is we’ll find out what we can from whomever we can and take it from there. Nothing to be concerned about.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but Noah has learned that there’s some things he needs to ignore if he wants to continue to be the Sheriff of Beacon Hills.

And the father of Stiles. And father-in-law to Peter Hale.

And maybe the grandfather of Leto for just a bit longer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds out stuff about Leto's past and the pack has a bonding night. Cause I wanted some fluff.

Peter does as he’s asked and reaches out to anyone and everyone of the pack’s allies to see if there’s information about the Hanson pack. Derek, with Boyd as his second, has been able to reestablish ties with all of Talia’s contacts. And of course, Peter has a few connections that aren’t necessarily official.

Even with all the contacts, he gets only a little more than Chris reported to them. Reports of a small, virtually nomadic pack. After a bit, there’s a bit more, through a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend sort of thing. He hears there was a young couple and someone says someone says the woman was pregnant.

And with a bit more digging, Peter hits gold.

“Rogers. Male partner’s name is Bill or Will – meaning William – Rogers. And the female part of this couple was Kelly. So, Leto’s birth parents were apparently William and Kelly Rogers.”

Stiles barely has his eyes open. It’s six o’clock in the morning and he’s in a pair of long johns, shoveling oatmeal into Leto’s mouth and hoping that some gets in, and not just on her. “No. We’re Leto’s parents,” he answers, scrubbing the heel of his hand across his eyes. “Leto’s Papa doesn’t have coffee, by the way.”

Peter sets a mug – a large one – in front of Stiles and puts some sourdough bread into the toaster. “You’re quiet. Talk to me, darling.”

“I guess I’m a little surprised that you found something.” He wipes Leto’s chin with a damp napkin and dabs the spoon into some of Peter’s homemade jam before getting another bit of the oatmeal. “I thought the name was generic enough or maybe because they didn’t have a territory…”

Taking the spoon from Stiles’ shaking hand, Peter takes over. He scoops up more breakfast with one hand and rests his hand over his spouse’s. “It was generic and not easy, but I found it. Should I apologize?”

Stiles turns Peter’s hand over and twines their fingers together. Leto doesn’t seem to notice her parent’s concern and tries to grab the spoon from Peter. “Are you trying to feed yourself, puppy? Maybe let your papa help until your coordination is a little better?”

Peter frees the spoon and wipes some jam off Leto’s head. “Sweetheart? Tell me you’re not angry with me.”

“Of course not, it’s not you, it’s…”

Peter licks off the spoon and puts it in the empty bowl. “It’s a surprise, I know. Do you want to talk with your father this afternoon or what would you like?”

“Yes, baby, give me a minute.” Stiles frees his hand and then frees Leto from her high chair before she goes into full wail mode. “You’re a filthy little beast, you ‘ll need a bath before you get dressed.” He wipes her face with a wet wipe, enough to feel like she won’t stick to the carpet. “You’re thinking we need to tell them, right? My dad and Chris, so they can try to find anyone from Leto’s family, someone who doesn’t know her and would take her from us and you think that’s a good idea?”

Brushing damp hair off Leto’s forehead, Peter looks down at the table and then takes a drink of his now tepid coffee. “Stiles, you know how your parents met, don’t you?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He lets Leto bite his finger, knowing she’s tense because of the atmosphere in the room, but he’s not ready to put her down for a nap or to put her down anywhere right now. “It’ll get there, just please, can you tell me do you know how your parents met?”

“Sure,” he says shrugging. “Both my mom and dad told me. And their stories actually nearly match.”

“And your grandparents, you know them? Or you’ve at least met them? And your family history?”

Stiles sighs, slumping a bit more in his chair. Leto stretches towards him and Peter hands her back so she can push her face into his neck and snuffle loudly. Her version of offering comfort. He rubs her back and she belches and farts, so maybe it wasn’t about offering comfort. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” He kisses her head and says, “Yeah, I’ve met them. Dad’s dad is still alive. He’s in a care facility, I know you know that.”

“And your mother’s family? You’ve mentioned them, but I don’t actually know a lot about them.”

He chuckles and rearranges their daughter, tucking his fingers down her diaper to confirm that she hasn’t pooped. Yet. Although honestly, they’d all know if she did. “Mom’s family. Hmm, let’s see, they didn’t like Dad, they thought she could do a lot better. Her father was a professor at Brown, teaching, I think a doctorate program in English Literature. Something like that. And her mom was an editor at some publishing company.”

“You met them?”

“Once.” Stiles gets up, taking Peter’s hand to drag him into the living room. After they’re curled up together, Peter’s arm around him, Stiles relaxes. “Yeah, once, or I guess twice. I know Mom kind of avoided them because they always told her how she shouldn’t have married Dad and how unhappy she’d be. That was when I was…” He looks at Peter as though he’ll have an answer. “I guess I was 8 or so and they came to visit. I remember it ended up with them driving off and Mom crying, and Dad swearing. Good times.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter pulls him closer, kissing his temple. “Although I think that might be how your father thinks of me.”

Stiles lazily taps his shoulder, not much of a punch at all. “No, at least not now. Maybe at first, but now he knows you’d do anything for me. He trusts you to take care of me and that’s the biggest, most important thing to him. Anyway, they left and the next time I saw them was at Mom’s funeral.”

“They sound charming, I’m sorry you were treated that way.”

“What way?”

“No way at all.”

It’s not difficult with werewolf strength to pull Stiles into his lap. Stiles rests his head on Peter’s shoulder and smiles as Leto quickly settles onto his shoulder.

“I’m sorry their anger or disappointment in your parent’s marriage means that they ignored their grandchild.”

“Their loss, right?” They’re both quiet for few minutes, listening to Leto’s quiet snores and snuffles. “You’re thinking Leto should at least know who her family is, or something weird like that?”

“Something like that.”

“I can’t talk you into keeping this hidden and saying that you didn’t find anything?” He sits back, his smile would be a little unsettling to others, but never to Peter; Stiles’ bloodthirstiness has always been attractive. “Or, if you insist, we tell the bare minimum to my dad and nothing to Chris? Or some variation of that? Just enough to be able to honestly say we tried?” Stiles kisses up Peter’s chin and bites his earlobe sharply.

Peter’s growl lets him know that’s still a good tactic, just not good enough. “I think we tell your father first. Give him what we know and I suspect he won’t work too hard to find information.”

“He’s a good cop,” Stiles replies, shaking his head. “Damn that Stilinski integrity.”

“He loves his granddaughter.”

“Yes, he does.” They sit silently for a moment, just touching and petting the back of Leto’s head while she naps on Stiles’ chest. Stiles understands a bit more why Peter likes it when he cuddles on _his_ chest – it seems to calm them both, or calm all three.

“We tell your father what we know. He’s very good at understanding nuance.” Peter sniffs and turns his head away. “How can something so lovely smell so awful?” He stands, dumping Stiles on the floor, but holding a hand out to pick him up. “Clumsy little thing. Not sure you can be trusted to give my baby a bath.”

“Laugh, old man, remember the reason she’s getting a bath!”

They both hold her in the warm water, swapping the bottles of soap and shampoo.

“This is crazy, she’s not even waking up. And how does she get poop on the middle of her back?”

Peter soaps between her toes and gives her foot a kiss when he’s rinsed it off. “Carbo loading with the oatmeal.” He shrugs and rinses off the last of the soap. “And as you know, poop happens. But yeah, oatmeal with cream, knocks little wolf babies out, I guess.”

Stiles hands him a bath towel and takes a hand towel to blot off her hair. “You’re familiar with it?” He’s prodding, but sometimes Peter is willing to talk about his past and Stiles thinks that has to be good for him. For both of them.

“Hmm. Talia said it was a good way to knock Danny out when he was a baby. He had a lot of energy, like our Leto, here.”

“Okay, so she named the kids Laura and Derek. And Cora and … Daniel?”

They go into Leto’s room and Stiles pulls out a clean diaper, handing it to Peter. “I think she’ll be good with just the nappy for her nap.”

“Agree. You know baby weres run warm.” They finish dressing her, and lie her down in her crib, with one more kiss and one more hand on her chest. “And yes, with the names. When Talia was pregnant with Danny, Miriam and I got her backed into the kitchen and told her that if she dared name the baby Eric we’d leave and find a new pack.”

“Lotta guts for a beta wolf and a human. Even if you were all siblings.” Stiles has managed to direct Peter down the hall to their bedroom, their den within a den. “I think I would have liked Miriam; she sounds like a real Hale, human or not.”

“I think she would have liked you, too, sweetheart.” Peter pulls Stiles down on the bed, pulling his shirt off before Stiles even realizes it. “Now, sleep or…”

Stiles shivers as Peter bites his shoulder and he knows there’ll be marks tomorrow. Silly wolf. “Umm, how about you blow me and then we nap and then later tonight, maybe it’s okay to have a few people over?”

Stopping what he’s doing, Peter moves back and swipes a hand over his mouth. “What people do you want over? We’re not talking about this with Chris or Noah today are we?”

“No, no, we’ll do as we discussed and save the bad shit for tomorrow. I’m just thinking tonight, maybe…” He pauses and pulls Peter down on top of him, wrapping his legs around Peter’s. “I want my pack around tonight. We won’t talk about what we know, we’ll just have them over and some food and stuff.”

“Sounds good, we can text before we nap.” He rubs Stiles’ hips, pulling them closer. “Assuming you still want some head before bed?”

“Asshole. Yeah, blow me, please.” Stiles kisses him before pushing Peter’s shoulder, so he’ll move down the bed. Not that he needs any encouragement.

There’s not a lot of extra entertainment needed, Leto’s enough to keep everyone entertained.

Of course, Derek tries to monopolize her, along with Kira who grabs her whenever she can. Lydia mostly watches, quiet without Allison’s company. Even if she were in town, Allison wouldn’t be invited to Peter’s house. He accepts a lot, but hunters don’t enter their home.

Isaac avoids Leto as much as possible, which means she zeros in on him, like a cat that knows you don’t like cats.

“Why does she hate me? I mean, look at this.” Isaac pulls up his pant leg, showing the circle of little, bleeding holes that close up as they watch.

“Maybe cause she has good taste and you’re an asshole?” Stiles shrugs and passes Leto back to Kira, who never has a problem with her. “Or you taste good and you’re an asshole.”

“Or he’s an asshole,” Erica says, grabbing Leto from Kira and taking her back to the chair she’s sharing with Boyd. Kira’s eyes flash and so do Erica’s, but coupled with Boyd’s growl, it seems they win for the moment.

“Isaac isn’t an asshole,” Scott states, nodding and looking mostly serious.

“Thank you, Alpha.” Isaac sounds like a mature beta wolf – other than sticking his tongue out at the others. They’ve all been sipping Peter’s microbrews with that tiny touch of wolfsbane for a kick.

“He’s just a bad baby-sitter who’s forgotten they’re called ankle-biters for a reason!” Scott crows, laughing like it’s the funniest thing anyone’s ever heard. Yeah, there’s been a few drinks and some of the pack will probably spend the night sleeping on the living room floor. Not the first time, and Stiles can’t say he doesn’t like it.

Kira takes a moment to smile at her ex and that’s when Leto makes a break for it, going over the back of the couch and into Derek’s waiting arms. “Yes, they’re all silly and wrong and you are the power baby, the _best_ baby, aren’t you?” He lifts her over his head making her giggle and shriek. The raspberry he blows on Leto’s stomach earns him a squeal and kick and it’s only his quick wolf reactions that lets him move her away before she connects with his face. “You’re so strong and when you’re older, we’ll get to run in the woods, you’d like that, right?”

Stiles nestles into Peter’s side, content to watch their pack joking and eating the snacks they made earlier. And of course, watching most everyone holding, playing and scent marking their daughter. His and Peter’s daughter and the pack’s newest member.

“She can go into the woods shifted when she’s old enough to shift back. And hopefully by that time, she’ll be able to understand a bit more about pack and not hurt anyone or herself.” Peter snags her as she runs by them, scooping her up and squishing her in between her parents. He raises an eyebrow at her and murmurs, “Calm yourself, baby girl, you’re getting over excited.”

After a moment and a couple of snarls, she turns into Peter’s side and rubs her face against him.

“She’s already had a very busy day.” Stiles rubs her back and smiles when she reaches behind herself to grab his fingers. “She discovered her reflection in the patio door earlier today and it was like those videos you see of kittens in front of a mirror.” He shakes his head and continues, “There was a lot of growling and scratching though. I guess we should be happy she wasn’t doing that sideways jump thing.”

“It was cute, I have a video on my phone,” Peter says, grinning. “And do you know who she reminded me of? Cora?”

“Shut up, Uncle Peter.” Cora flops down on the floor in front of them leaning back to give Leto a pat. “I saw the video and heard you in the background saying, ‘Who’s that girl, go get her.’ You’ve always been horrible.”

“I remember seeing that. Dad had that camcorder and you and Danny got the worst of it,” Derek says and the room falls silent.

Peter reaches down and combs his fingers through Cora’s hair, a comfort to them both. “I’d say Leto will need some strong women around her. Both as an example and, I suppose, for those women-things that Stiles and I probably aren’t good at.”

“Like when she wants to complain about how over-protective her fathers are?” Cora squeezes Peter’s hand, leaning back against the cushion so it’s easier for him to keep his hand on her.

“What am I, nothing? I’m your daughter, your original one, remember?”

Lydia snorts and takes a picture of Leto with her face smushed on Stiles’ leg and her butt in the air on Peter’s lap. “Yes, and I’m sure she’ll appreciate you when she wants to run in the forest, or hunt her own meals. And when she needs advice on fashion or men or college applications, there’ll be several of us available to help.”

“I think I was insulted. Maybe we were insulted?” Malia turns to Kira, and her eyes flash blue like so many of the Hales. “You don’t know everything about _everything_ , Lydia.”

Thankfully, Kira holds her back, whispering something in her ear.

“No, I’m the one who knows everything about everything. And what I know is you all need to leave now.” Peter carefully moves Leto to Stiles’ lap, hand on his shoulder letting him know he doesn’t need to get up.

“Oh sure,” Scott says, glancing between Malia and Lydia. He loves them both, they’re both pack, but he wouldn’t want to get in between them during a fight, alpha strength or not. “Thanks for having us over and Stiles, don’t get up, the little one needs her sleep, right?”

“Yeah, and congrats, Scott, you didn’t have to hold her once.”

The alpha shrugs and glances at a smirking Peter. “Well, when I gave her a little scenting, your hubby here was already shooting daggers. Hey, any word on Chris’ investigation?”

“Nope. Nothing yet.” Stiles picks Leto up and sniffs her diaper covered bottom. “Only thing new is a new poop. I guess it’s not new, she’s noxious at least twice a day. So I guess she’s regular.”

“Regularly smelly,” Malia says, pulling on Kira’s arm to pull her away from one last cuddle. “We’re outta here, thanks for having us over and feeding us and…yeah.” She brushes her face against Peter’s cheek and then Stiles’. One quick rub of her hand down Leto’s arm and Kira repeating her moves and then they’re gone.

“Bye, guys,” Isaac says, giving just a quick touch to Peter and Stiles and nodding to Scott, who’s his ride. “If you need anything, like a baby sitter or something, don’t call me. Don’t call me until she’s no longer feral.”

“If my child were feral, you’d be in a lot more trouble.” Peter flashes his eyes at Isaac; he doesn’t really dislike the young man, but since Stiles does, he does, too.

The rest of the pack gets up to leave, with a bit of scenting traded with everyone. Last one out is Derek and Peter grabs him around the shoulder, holding him back.

When Peter’s hand slips around Derek’s neck, Derek stiffens but shuts his eyes and Stiles can see him taking a breath, trying to trust his uncle. “Stay a minute? You, too, Cora.”

They both stop, and while the other wolves smell like curiosity, they leave the Hales, including Hale by marriage, for whatever they need to discuss.

“Is it bad?” Cora’s nose wrinkles as Stiles changes Leto’s diaper. He’s good at this now, barely a minute, maybe a little longer when she’s had time to spread out her stinky gifts. “I mean, that’s bad,” she nods towards the bundle Stiles dumps in a plastic bag. “But there’s more?”

Derek takes Leto while Stiles washes his hands and Peter sets out things for coffee for tomorrow morning. “What’s up, Peter? You didn’t want to talk about things earlier, but there’s something…”

“We need you to watch Leto tomorrow. Stiles and I have to go see his father and talk about a few things.”

“Things like what?” Cora is looking at Leto, smiling as she wiggles in her sleep. The baby’s eyebrows thicken and she growls, but there’s no feeling of worry from her, so they let her dream. “Something we should know?”

“Just an update. We found out a little information and need to share with Dad.” Stiles glances at Peter and says, “And with Chris.”

Cora and Derek both flash their eyes and Peter snorts quietly. He puts a soothing hand on Leto’s chest, as her growl gets louder, picking up the mood in the room. “I found out a few things and, as promised, we will share them with the good sheriff and the supposedly reformed hunter. I think be here around ten?”

“You don’t need us there?” Derek asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Stiles grins and shakes his head – Hales are all attractive. “No. we’ll be fine, in and out, maybe a couple of hours at the most. We just don’t want to take her with us, so thought maybe one of you could –“

“We can both be here.” Cora checks with her brother and he gives a quick nod. “Not that anything is needed, I’m sure you’d tell us if there’s anything needed other than feeding, playing and cleaning up after her, right?”

“You’re having a friendly conversation with Chris, not talking about hunters after her, right?”

“That’s all, just a conversation,” Peter confirms. He holds out his hands and Derek kisses Leto’s forehead before passing her over. Peter waits while Cora rubs the baby’s cheek.

“And you’ll tell us what’s going on when you get back.” It’s not a request, even though Peter and Stiles could ignore her order. “At least let us know she’s safe.”

“She’ll be safe, and there’s not much to tell. And she’s not going anywhere - this is our baby.” Stiles presses himself into Peter’s side, adding his hand to Peter’s large one on her chest. “Our pack.”

“Our pack,” the wolves say, and nod. “See you guys tomorrow.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Stiles report what they've found out about baby Leto.  
> Now they wait.

Noah wakes up to noises downstairs. He’s about to reach for his gun when he smells bacon and hears Peter’s chuckle. Meaning Stiles and Peter are over, and while this isn’t necessarily good at least he gets bacon.

He groans as he gets up, trying not to acknowledge how it takes a little longer than it did a couple of years ago. “Is there coffee?” he calls down, pulling a sweatshirt over his head.

“You have to ask?” Stiles meets him at the bottom with a steaming mug, the handle towards Noah. “Mornin’, Dad.”

“Hmm.” He takes a sip, and smiles in satisfaction. It’s Peter’s coffee, about twice the price of what Noah normally drinks. “And bacon?” He takes his regular chair at the kitchen table and snags some toast and a bottle of jam they must have brought over. “So who died?”

“Dad!” Stiles crosses his arms and sits back in his chair, copying Peter’s insulted look. “No one died, at least nothing we need to discuss. Wait, that doesn’t sound good—"

“It’s not like that, Noah, we just wanted a few minutes to give you an update on what I found about Leto, and have breakfast while we’re at it.” Peter pushes the bowl of scrambled eggs towards Stiles and says, “Eat while it’s hot and we can talk.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes passing food around and refilling drinks. “Should I get my phone to record this?” Noah asks, folding eggs and bacon into his toast for a quick sandwich. Peter’s really good cooking bacon, it’s never limp and never burnt.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ve got some notes to leave with you.” Peter snags some bacon and puts it on Noah’s plate. “Before Stiles eats it all.”

Noah looks at Stiles, whose head is down, concentrating on his eggs and not looking at Peter. That boy couldn’t lie to save his life, but he’s good at dancing around things. He always was and Peter’s helped make him better, if help is the right word. “Um hm. So we’re here and not at the station and no recording. And you’re force feeding me bacon. You sure no one is dead?”

“We’re not trying to not tell you things, Dad, but you know, there’s plausible deniability.” He takes a piece of Noah’s toast and shakes it at him, watching butter drip off. “Just because Peter cooked doesn’t mean you get to undo six weeks’ worth of cholesterol work.”

“Leto’s parents are William and Kelley Rogers. Their pack had been moving around, so it’s hard to tell where they might have been from. I know it’s not much, but—” Peter pulls out his wallet and hands Noah a folded piece of paper. “Again, sorry it’s not much, but this is the best I could get.”

Noah opens the paper and scans it quickly. It doesn’t take long because there’s really only the names on the paper and nothing else. “So your thoughts on what I should do with this?”

“Up to you, of course. We’ll give Chris the same information and see what he finds out.” Peter refills coffee cups and chews on a piece of bacon after offering it to Stiles. “No one has done anything criminal, at least not as far as I know. I mean other than the hunters of course, but Stiles is against me going out on a rampage again.”

“Yes, dear, I’m so unfair.” There’s another eye roll before Stiles stands and starts to clear the table. “Dad, I made you a sandwich to take to work, even though there wasn’t a lot of healthy lunch items in the fridge, hint, hint.”

Noah snorts and finishes his coffee, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, well maybe that’s because I’m a big boy and get my lunch or dinner or whatever. Geez, Stiles, you don’t need to babysit me.”

“What amuses me is I’m always telling Stiles that coffee and Doritos isn’t a nutritious lunch,” Peter hands Stiles the rest of the dishes from the table and kisses his temple. “And I completely know where you got your sarcasm gene from.”

“Thanks for breakfast, guys, and for the information on Leto’s, um, probably parents. I’ll see what I can find out on the downlow.” He looks at the paper again, putting it into his back pants pocket as he heads for the door.

“You coming over this week? She misses you.” Stiles shrugs when his father pauses and turns around. “I might, too. And Peter’ll cook.”

“I’ll call or text and we’ll work something out.” Noah’s shoulders are more relaxed as he leaves.

“I wish we hadn’t have given him the names,” Stiles says, moving into Peter’s arms. They each have their place when they hug, their arms automatically wrapping around each other and there’s a favorite side of the neck for each to press their face into. “I wish he wasn’t such a good cop.”

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much, Stiles, Leto can smell it on you and it bothers her.”

Stiles chuckles into Peter’s neck and says, “You know she’s not here, honey?”

“Well, I don’t like it either.”

Talking with Chris or any of the Argents is always a delicate dance, at least for Stiles. He doesn’t love them, not after his ‘adventure’ in the Argent basement with good ol’ Gerard, but he knows that Chris and Allison are different from homicidal Grampa. So he’s able to work with them, and has no problem saying that Allison is his friend. And maybe she didn’t work out with Scott, but she seems happy to be on her own, no boyfriend or girlfriend in sight. Pack members have tried to set her up, but she firmly says she doesn’t need a relationship and if she wants an orgasm, she can do it herself. Lydia applauded at that.

When anyone in the pack meets with an Argent, Peter insists they meet in neutral territory, or outdoors at the Argent’s camp. The Argents are not allowed in Derek’s house or at Peter and Stiles’ house. Other pack members can ignore Peter’s warnings, but there’s only so much he can control. And if Scott or Isaac ends up dead, well, he tried, sort of. Trying to follow their dicks to someone who is completely not interested.

After breakfast with Noah, it’s over to the Argent’s little suburban ranch house just outside Beacon County. Technically, it’s the unincorporated city called Willow Landing - as though being outside the county will help when everything goes to hell again.

But it’s nice outside and there’s chairs in a rough circle, far enough apart that Stiles could probably reach Peter before he’s able to get to either Chris or Allison.

These things are important when taking Peter to visit the people whose family killed his. It’s been years, but seriously what could be time enough after seeing and smelling your family burn?

“Stiles!” Alison exclaims and moves towards him. But she’s smart and knows to keep her hands at her side, even though it’s awkward and he can see her hands clenching like she’s physically holding herself back. She stops and she’s smiling so broadly with dimples on full display.

How does this work, what makes things equal? He loves her, she’s a friend. Funny and smart and they can make gentle jokes about Scott, whom they both love.

He was possessed by the Nogitsune when an oni, under his control, ran a sword through her. She nearly died, but she’s never blamed him.

Before that, Peter killed Chris’ sister, Allison’s aunt, in front of both of them. Because she killed his whole family in front of him.

And before that, Stiles was tortured by Chris’ father and oh yeah, Allison, trying to get a message (or something) to Derek. Or Scott.

But you know, Scott tried to kill Stiles and Stiles helped to set Peter on fire, before Derek killed Peter. 

Whatever, to Stiles it’s a long time ago, all of it and packs are complicated. And he’d rather just work with the Argents and use their protection when it’. No, he’s not going to have Allison in his house because it upsets Peter, but he’s not going to cut out his friend.

“Hey, Alley Cat!” He pulls her into a hug and instinct has him sniffing at her neck, brushing his cheek against hers.

She laughs, pleased and used to it. Some of the wolves scent her and some don’t. She knows it means acceptance.

Not like the growl coming from Peter or when her father clears his throat. “Hey, hi, sit down,” Chris says, nodding towards the chairs furthest away from Allison’s. “You said you had some information and –“

“How’s everything? You’re calling her Leto, that’s - I don’t know what that is! You know, I had to ask Scott to send me pictures of her and she’s so cute.” Allison smiles at Peter, ignoring or pretending to ignore his stone face. “I’m sure her outfits are ones you’ve chosen and she does look adorable.” She takes a breath, leaning back in the Adirondack, still beaming her smile at Stiles. “So, what’s up, guys, you wanted to talk?”

Stiles reaches into his shirt pocket and hands a small piece of paper to Allison. “This is what Peter found out. We have a name, that’s it.”

“They were, as we know, rather nomadic and didn’t seem to be any place for very long. Perhaps with the child, the pack may have planned to settle down, or maybe the family would break off by themselves and find another pack. We just don’t know.”

Allison slips the paper into her cellphone case and drops it on the ground next to her. “Okay, what else is new? You’ve had her for how long, now? Almost a year? Are you planning a birthday party for her? Or actually she’s over a year old because she was how old, do we think, when you got her?”

Peter takes Stiles’ hand, smelling his anxiety blooming. “Darling, we give that girl a party at least weekly. I thought we could celebrate the summer solstice as her birthday. That’s always a good excuse for a party and combining both should be fun.”

“Yeah, but we’d celebrate that anyway.” He chews on his available thumb nail and shakes his head. “We should designate a birthday for her, you know, when we do the final adoption papers.”

Chris and Allison exchange a look and Chris asks, “Assuming we don’t find any living relatives, you’d want to keep her? I mean, I know the pack supports you, but…”

“But nothing, Christopher. Yes, we have a supportive pack, but of course most of the parenting falls to us. And yes, we do intend to formally adopt her.” He kisses the back of Stiles’ hand before letting it go. “As Allison pointed out, we’ve had her for just over a year. I wouldn’t think you’d have a problem with that; after all, we have our alpha’s approval.”

“No, just kind of surprising, at least to me,” Allison shrugs and grins at Stiles. “I guess I’m just thinking about the geeky high school kid I used to know and trying to picture him raising a child.” She chuckles and leans over, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “You know, without dropping her.”

“I haven’t dropped her, although I was worried about that, too, actually.” He leans over a little closer to her, mock-whispering, “It was close once or twice, but not my fault. She’s really wiggly, especially coming out of a bath. She’s either knocked out asleep or she’s like a, like a wet otter or something.”

“Scott says Derek is totally in love with her.” Chris grins broadly at Peter and cocks an eyebrow. “What, I talk to people and I talk to your alpha. We update each other on what’s going on, both here and in the outside world.”

“And what do you know that you might have told the alpha, but not the pack’s protector?” Peter crosses his arms over his chest, drumming his claws on one bicep. “We’re not too busy to do our jobs, Christopher.”

“I told Scott. Maybe he’s the one keeping you out of the loop.”

“Dad!” Allison turns to him, giving her father a look he remembers on his ex-wife’s face. “You talk to Scott as much as you need and I’ll make sure to keep these guys advised. We know that Scott gets…”

“Busy. We call it busy, it’s a lot nicer than saying he spaces out and forgets to tell his pack stuff.” Stiles sighs, turning to Peter. “Do you think he cuts out Derek? I’ll remind him to include us in debriefings with our allies.”

“It wasn’t any type of formal briefing or anything, so don’t get carried away.” Chris grins and nudges Allison. “Do you want to tell them who you ran into during your investigation? News that’s fresh off the press.”

Allison grins and says, “We met with Deucalion, and set up a treaty. He’s an alpha, of course, but seems, well, less crazy than before.”

“Not hard for him to be less crazy than the last time we saw him. Since he was the poster child for bat shit crazy.” Stiles shrugs and looks to Peter. “Comments? Thoughts?”

“Does he have a pack and are they all alphas again?”

“No, no, no,” Chris answers. “He’s got a few betas, his second and another beta were both at the meeting and they seemed pretty comfortable with him. A man who looked about his age, and a woman slightly older. She was a wolf, I’m not sure her position, but she seemed—” He looks at Allison, and continues, “To me they seemed like they might be a couple, or becoming a couple. Unspoken intimacy, I guess. And they seemed deferential to him, but not scared of him.”

“Did he say how big his pack is? And what was your treaty?” Stiles leans forward in his chair, at the same time Chris sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Come on, we have a treaty with you and if you have a treaty with them… At least tell enough so we can feel protected.”

“I don’t think you’re in any danger.” Allison takes Stiles’ hand and gives it a squeeze. Then drops it quickly when Peter gives her a definite stink-eye. “In fact, he asked about you, asked about you both. If you’re happy with your pack, and if you’re being used to, and I quote “your full abilities” unquote.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“He’s recruiting, hopefully this time without blood.” Peter leans back, mirroring Chris’ position, arms crossed over his chest. “What did you tell him?”

“We said you both seem to be happy, or at least happy enough with Scott and the pack and we didn’t think you were looking to move.”

Stiles’ eyes suddenly go wide and he looks from his husband to the hunters. “You didn’t mention Leto, did you? Please tell me that our daughter didn’t come up in conversation with another pack, led by a known megalomaniac spree killer?”

“Of course not.” Chris snorts, shaking his head as though they should know better, as if there’s no history. “We want to have as many treaties as make sense, but our loyalty –”

“Our first loyalty is to Scott’s pack, to _your_ pack. And that means, we don’t give unnecessary details about anyone or discuss you’re fostering a lost baby werewolf… No one needs information on that.”

Peter stands and reaches out a hand to help Stiles up, not turning his back on the Argents. “No, no one does need to know about her or others in our pack. If you find out anything about Leto’s former pack, please let us know.”

It’s a fast exit and when they leave, there’s no hugs, just quick nods as the wolf and the spark go to their car and drive away.

“We’re home!” Stiles calls and heads towards the living room, where he can hear Derek reading out loud and Leto’s giggles. “Sounds like things are going well and –”

“No.” Peter grabs his arm, shaking his head. “Shower for you first.”

“What? Come on, don’t be ridiculous.”

Derek’s holding Leto as she tries to climb over his shoulder towards her parents. “What happened?” His eyes flash, which encourages Peter’s to flash and pretty soon, the whole family – minus Stiles – has bright eyes and there’s quiet growling and probably a few teeth.

“Nothing happened, everyone calm down.” Stiles turns to Peter, his expression as angry as any wolf. “What is wrong with you? I hugged Allison and now you’re losing your mind?”

“It’s not that, although it is partly that. You smell like guns, and gun powder and you smell of wolfsbane.” He sniffs Stiles’ shoulder, wrinkling his nose. “Those smells, hunter smells, are all over her and she’s transferred them to you.”

He snorts and takes a step towards the living room. “I think you might be exaggerating?”

And then Leto’s eyes glow bright yellow and she looks to Peter and whines, trying to slide down Derek and possibly trying to get behind him.

“Oh my god, baby, I’m so sorry!” Stiles whispers as he back up into their bedroom and towards the bathroom. It has a shower Stiles has always thought was too big and too showy, but now it’s all he wants. He scared his baby.

Peter comes in behind him, silent as he helps strip off both their clothes. He leaves long enough to toss things into the washer before he returns and joins his husband in the hot shower.

“I’m so sorry, Peter, I didn’t think she would recognize those smells, and oh, I triggered our daughter?” He steps back, turning towards the door. “I should go make sure she’s okay and not rolled up in a ball!”

“Derek will take care of her and now that we’re getting rid of the scents, she’ll be fine. It wasn’t long enough, it was…” He rests his head on Stiles’ shoulder and then moves enough to bite his neck. It’ll bruise, but he didn’t break the skin. “I didn’t think it would upset her so much. I just didn’t want her sneezing from the wolfsbane or connecting that scent with you.”

They’re quiet while they wash down, Peter paying extra attention to washing Stiles’ hair. He’s calmer now, gentle as he massages his mate’s head, holding him up when Stiles’ legs get wobbly.

“Are we clean enough? Maybe we should put on dirty clothes from the hamper and that’ll be more familiar and –”

Stiles looks over his shoulder as Peter pushes him against the wall and starts tugging on his cock, eyes flashing blue “And there we are, my wolf, can’t get rid of other people’s smells without that.” He stretches, shoving out his ass and giving it a couple of shakes. “Don’t hurt yourself, need some help?”

It only takes a minute after that and Peter comes on Stiles’ back then leans against him, panting in his ear.

“Okay, can we rinse off so I can go check on our daughter?”

Leto acts like the last 30 minutes never happened, happily crawling over Derek and Cora to get into Stiles’ arms. He kisses her head and passes her to Peter so he can update the rest of his family on the day’s events. Because this is their family, and pack be damned, this group, three Hales, one Hale-by-marriage and one Hale-to-be is the only important thing.

“So we just, what? We wait?” Cora snorts into Leto’s hair and then smooths it out.

Normally Leto would be on the floor, stumbling around, walking a few steps on her own before trying to climb up something, like a book case or the silk living room curtains. But for now, she’s quite content to just climb on everyone, making sure to scent them multiple times. 

“I can continue to research, see if I can find anything on a possible pack or a pack by them.” Peter gathers his daughter into his arms and fake-growls into her neck just to hear her squeal and enjoy a healthy kick in the chest. “Who wouldn’t want to keep this little stink-butt monster?”

“Is she stinky? Is my baby girl a stink monster?” Stiles picks her up and looks into her eyes before pulls her towards his face, flowery pajamas covering her diaper. “Yup, not even a wolf and I can smell this girl needs changing.”

“Okay, thank you for taking care of her and you need to leave.” Peter stands, pointing towards the front door and using his daughter to shove them forwards. “You can stay and change her or thank you and we’ll keep you posted. Now leave.”

“Charmed, as always,” Derek says, ushering Cora out the door. “You’re lucky we like you. Sort of.”

“We like her,” Cora corrects. “And maybe Stiles.”

Normally, Leto sleeps in her room. She has a lovely little crib, one that she can safely chew on. It’s usually the first depository for Peter and Stiles’ used clothes, their one- day vacation there before the clothes go into the laundry basket. By that time, they’ve been worn, slept on, drooled on, probably peed on and definitely chewed on. Peter amazes himself by how little he cares.

Tonight, however, Stiles doesn’t object when Peter brings their sleeping daughter into bed with them. He curls up under Stiles arm, resting on one shoulder while Leto snuffles onto Stiles’ other shoulder, her legs on his belly. Peter’s leg anchors Stiles’ and his hand manages to cover both their daughter’s diapered bottom and a bit of Stiles’ ribs.

Talking with people is exhausting, and talking about Leto is even worse. Stiles is ready to sleep, sure that Leto will either move on her own or be moved without any damage.

“I’m sorry.” Peter rarely apologizes, Stiles can probably count the number of times. “I’m sorry for earlier,” he says, more into Stiles’ neck than anything else. “I may have been…”

“Correct in what was needed, but shitty in explaining it?”

“Perhaps.”

They’re quiet for a moment, but Stiles knows the conversation isn’t done. Sometimes it’s easier to talk in the dark, everyone safe, at least temporarily.

“I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have gone to the Argents. We could have talked at your father’s house or…” He shrugs against Stiles’ shoulder and sighs. “I don’t know what made me think talking with them at all was a good idea. I don’t know why I felt we had to tell them what I found out, or why I had to look anyways. I’m an idiot, apparently.”

“Hey, what happened to the guy who talked about making sure Leto knows her history and her heritage?”

“That guy? Why do you even listen to him, everyone knows he’s an asshole.”

“Hey, stop insulting the guy I’m in love with. He’s a bit of a pain, but he’s mine.”

Peter kisses Leto’s head and Stiles’ shoulder. “I hope you’re talking about me.”

“Of course I am.” Stiles uses his chin to nudge at Peter until he moves enough for a kiss. “We’ve done what we promised to do and now we wait, I guess. Or we move away and get new identities.”

“Now we sleep and we’ll discuss new identities in the morning.” Peter kisses his daughter and spouse one more time, letting their familiar scent lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is going so slowly, but it developed a plot and conflict and stuff I need to solve. It was just supposed to be fluff with a biting baby werewolf.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family bonding and a bit of a cliff hanger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about confusion posting the other day. I had half the chapter in one doc and half in another and had to fix stuff.

After all of that, after all the worry and drama, things get quiet. There’s nothing from either Chris or Noah.

Stiles asks, he absolutely does. Repeatedly.

“Dad, if you had found anything, even something making you think there might be something, you’ll tell me, right?”

Noah’s sigh can be heard down the block. “Yes, Stiles, I’ve told you before that I’ll tell you if I find out anything.”

“And so you haven’t?”

“No, Stiles, I haven’t heard anything because, as I said, I’d tell you if I did.” He switches to the channel that’ll have the USC-Notre Dame game that he and Peter’ll watch this afternoon. Peter is a USC alumni and Noah doesn’t care who wins, as long as he’ll be able to get in some good jabs.

“Okay, you better, you know we’re both on edge and just want to know if something, anything is moving.”

Noah rolls his eyes, because apparently it’s contagious. “What is it with you two? Do you need it in writing? I told him and I’m telling you: if I find out anything or think I’m close to something or hear that Chris is close to something, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you both. Okay?”

“I didn’t know you already discussed this with Peter. But you have to tell both of us at the same time.” Stiles check to be sure Peter’s still gone. “Or if you can’t get both of us, you have to tell me first. Both or me, Dad. Just don’t tell him first. He cannot be first.”

“Who can’t be first at what?” Peter asks, kissing Stiles’ head as he heads towards the kitchen. “I think I have everything, I’ll put something together to eat. How’s our daughter?”

“She’s fine, she’s…” Stiles points to the floor and says, “I think she’s trying to pull up the kitchen tiles.”

“Again?” Peter picks her up and glares at her when she starts to whine. “None of that, we’ve discussed this. When you’re older, you can decorate your room. Leave my kitchen alone.” He hands her to Noah and says, “What did I miss? Who can’t be first at what?”

“Ummm. Dad?”

“You switch between being an excellent liar or a really terrible one.” Noah pulls his fingers out of Leto’s mouth and turns to Peter. “Stiles was telling me that I can’t tell you anything I find out about Leto without telling him.”

While Stiles sputters, Noah continues, “Hush, son, or learn to lie quicker. Answer is, I won’t tell anyone anything until I’m telling both of you. Not that I’ve found out anything. The names are too general and with no locations… I’m coming up empty.”

“And nothing from Chris?” Peter might look very casual, but Stiles can see the tension in his shoulders. By this time, Noah probably can as well.

“Nope. Nothing. Again, I said I’ll let you know.” He reaches around Peter and grabs a cherry tomato and offers it to Leto. “You want?”

She bites it from his hand and it explodes on her and Noah, creating a few claws and a loud scream.

Stiles quickly grabs her and wipes her hands and face with a damp towel that seems to be attached to him now. With Peter’s puke towel, they’re ready for anything. “And that was her first raw tomato, thank you, Dad.”

Peter acts like this year’s summer solstice festival will be attended by actual fae royalty. Of course, that’s not likely – or probably not – but it will be treated as Leto’s first solstice. And since they don’t know her official birthday, this is the best way to celebrate. A combination one-year birthday and summer solstice, perfect for werewolf pack members of any age.

“Peter, I think you might be going too far.” Stiles looks at his husband, high in a tree, stretching out another string of tiny, white lights. “We don’t need to light up the entire preserve. It’ll be almost a full moon, too, so that’ll be extra bright – but not so much that everyone’ll be all grrr.”

The wolf drops to the ground, smirking when Stiles jumps back. “Our family is very well equipped to not get too grr during a full moon. Except for the birthday girl and of course, she’s allowed to do whatever she wants.”

“You’re whipped, she totally has you whipped. But that’s okay, I am, too.” Stiles looks up into the tree, shading his eyes from the sun and his scent goes puzzled. “Are those solar lights? Or are there electric cords or something I can’t see?”

“They’re electric,” Peter answers, not bothering to look up. “I didn’t want solar in case it got cloudy or if just being in the trees they wouldn’t get enough light. They’ll be fine, I’ve got this. Derek and Cora will be over to finish getting tables out here and I’ll be done soon and you can tell me what you need me to do.”

“Sure, I’m going to call Lyds and be sure she’s got the cakes covered. We’re getting a little one for Leto to rip into and then one that we can eat that’s not been ripped into.” Stiles cups a hand around Peter’s neck, pulling him close. “It does look nice out here. Thanks, and have I told you I love you today?”

“Maybe just once.” Peter steps back from their kiss, saying, “To the kitchen with you, and I’ll be in soon to get the ribs seasoned.”

Stiles will monitor the ribs, slow-roasted in the oven and finished under the broiler. The Hales don’t always like the smell of grilling meat, and Stiles has got the recipe down pat. “Got it,” he says, singing ‘She’s my cherry pie’ under his breath as he heads back to the house.

After he’s out of sight, Peter looks up at the lights in the tree and whispers, “Fuck.” Then he heads to the garage to get the extension cords that were supposed to have been attached to the light cords earlier.

Stiles, looking out the kitchen window, smirks at his husband, but wisely doesn’t mention it.

People start to arrive in the early afternoon, supposedly to help with preparations, but mostly to hang out, start eating, and play with Leto. Full moon in just a few days and everyone’s getting excited.

“She knows something’s planned,” Derek points out. “Smart little wolf.” He grabs her for kisses as she runs by, using him and any available furniture to keep her balance.

“She should, Stiles has been telling her constantly.” Peter pours the final bag of ice over the soda and water bottles. “There. We’ve got way too much beer in one, non-alcohol in another and miscellaneous things Stiles likes to drink in the third.”.

Cora flips open the cooler and sighs. “Those weird fizzy-with-alcohol drinks. They’re gross.” She grabs a beer and flops into a lawn chair, snagging Leto and pulling her into her lap, even knowing it won’t last. “Sit for a minute, you’re making me dizzy.”

“You sound like your mother.”

Stiles checks on Peter, but his smile is soft and fond. He’s mellowing, finally, with a mate and child. “I found myself telling Leto she was going to spoil her appetite with chips. Just like my mom used to tell me. And like me, Leto completely ignored that sage advice and basically buried her head in the bag.”

“But she’s a growing baby wolf, so she can handle it.” Erica sits next to Cora and holds out her arms. “Give me that child, I need cuddles.”

Leto goes willingly, pushing Erica’s curls back so she can scent her neck. “Boy?” She looks over Erica’s shoulder, checking for Erica’s mate. He’s fun and chases her, letting her stumble and generally treating Leto like a little wolf. And he doesn’t make a big deal over scraped knees or bruises, the way Stiles does. Boyd has been a big brother before and he is again, and the pack doesn’t discuss how much they enjoy watching him on his very human hands and knees chasing Leto from room to room.

“Did you miss me?” He lifts her overhead to make a raspberry on her tummy. “Go get me a beer. I’ll let you choose which one,” he says, setting her on the ground and directing her towards the coolers. He looks at Erica and asks, “That’s safe, right? Peter picked out the beer, not Stiles?”

“Hey, don’t be mean or you get no taquitos.” Stiles sets his tray on a table that’s already covered with bowls of chips, crackers, a pile of chicken wings, bread along with dips, cheeses and tons of other snack food. “Glad no one is a vegetarian.” He stops, tilting his head looking at Scott, who tilts back at him. “Are there vegetarian werewolves? Oh, and speaking of that, vampires. If a vampire drank the blood of a vegetarian, would that be enough? Is there something in a person’s diet that would affect a vampire?”

“Why are you rambling, dude? Is everything okay?”

Before Stiles can answer Scott, Isaac jumps in. “Yeah, why are you nervous? It’s just a child’s birthday party with your friends. It’s not like you trying to get the balls to ask Peter out.”

“Shut up, Isaac. Why are you here anyway?” Stiles has never warmed to Isaac, but because of Scott, he’s at least stopped actively trying to injure him.

“No, no, continue, Isaac.” Peter settles on the chair with Stiles, moving him around until Peter is satisfied and Stiles stops wiggling. “Stiles had concerns about asking me out? Was it just shyness? His lack of experience? The perception that I’m out of his league? His awkwardness?”

“You’re a dick,” Stiles mutters into his neck. Of course, everyone can hear, and they can also tell by scent that neither man is upset – it’s just playing.

Scott grins and leans forward, ready to share. After all, as Stiles’ best friend, he had to hear about his friend’s insecurities and final triumph in great details. “Oh, let’s see, you’re rich and hot – he thinks you’re hot – and smart and he’s all flaily and stuff.” Scott scratches his head and looks to Stiles. “I mean there was more, right? Or did you just keep going over the same stuff over and over? No, wait, there was that and then me reminding you that he’s old enough to be your ex-girlfriend’s father and he’s murdered, like a lot of people.”

“Is it me, or did we change the subject?” Peter plucks Leto away from Derek’s lap, and says, “It’s strange that Derek’s so fond of Leto. I’m happy about it, but surprised, because he used to pee on Cora when she was this age.”

“You did what?” Cora yells, and throws herself at Derek, who easily deflects her. At this point, they’re play fighting rather than practice fighting and it makes a difference. Makes a difference in that they snarl and smile at the same time. Cora not only slashes her claws at her brother, she also does a quick shimmy and gestures for him to get closer.

Of course, Malia is the next to jump in, not physically, but encouraging Cora. Kira tries to pull her back, but it’s Malia and the summer solstice and the family that she missed over the years. Meaning there’s no stopping her.

“Come on, Derek, big tough guy. Gonna beat up your sister ‘cause she’s mad you peed on her?”

“Two against one?” Erica asks, and shifts to her beta form, standing next to her former alpha. “Not fair!”

It took Peter awhile to warm to her, not having known her when she turned, what with being dead and all. And then he found out the reason she was kidnapped was because she left her alpha. She left her alpha. Her alpha.

Since Derek was willing to have her around and Scoot (don’t get him started) seems happy with anyone in his pack, including the killer twins for a bit, Peter forgave both her and Boyd. He did lecture them and got alarmingly close to scaring the crap out of them, but now he likes them both. Quite a lot, actually. Erica’s a bit of a hell-fire and Boyd calms her down and has a wicked sense of humor once you get past his walls.

Walls, they all have them. And together, they’re breaking them down.

Leto squirms until Peter lets her down, watching as she stumble-runs into the mess of beta wolves all rasslin’ and growling like their lives are at stake. Thankfully it’s something they don’t have to worry about, at least not on a daily basis.

Stiles’ heart is pounding as he grabs Peter’s arm, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “They’re so much bigger than Leto and there’s so many and will she be…”

“I think she’ll be fine.”

There’s an outraged howl, more pitiful than scary. “Save me, save me!” Isaac calls to the pack, dragging his leg with Leto attached. Yes, there’s blood and his pants may never be the same, but his scent is happy and proud.

And it’s the same for the rest of the pack. Pride and happiness and love and family and packpackpack.

“Gotta say, kid, I’m pretty proud of you.” Noah looks around the preserve, gesturing with his bottle of beer. He’ll have two today, three maximum, but over a few hours, it’s not bad. He’s careful to not get back into prior bad habits, happy to have a reason to look forward to the day.

“Thanks, Dad, I guess. Not sure why exactly.” A foam football lands by his feet and he leans down to pick it up and toss it back to Kira. “It’s the potato salad isn’t it? It’s good, I know, got the recipe from America’s Test Kitchen.”

“No, kiddo, although it is pretty good.” He sets down his bottle and turns to his son. “I’m proud of you because you turned out to be a good, responsible, caring adult.” He sees Peter trying not to be obvious about listening to their conversation, but he’s been in law enforcement for a while now, and Peter’s tells are easy to see. But it’s fine if he’s listening and maybe a good thing, so he knows that Noah is still keeping track of his son. Noah has to grudgingly admit that Peter might be a good decision for Stiles. “You have a lot of responsibility with the pack and I can tell they appreciate you, which they should.”

Leto runs by with Malia, fully shifted to her coyote form, running after her. Not too rough, even she’s learned to be gentle with the toddler. Leto giggles as she runs away, heading towards Cora and Derek, her family who will keep her safe.

“They’re getting a little rowdy now the sun’s setting.” Peter settles on the grass, leaning against Stiles’ legs. “You’re told that children run themselves down and play until they’re exhausted. Not this one, it’s like the more she moves the more energy she has.”

“She’s like her Dad,” Noah says and then chuckles. “Guess that’s not right, not exactly. Maybe Leto’s picked it up from him?” He shrugs before standing and stretching, twisting his shoulders and the muscles that tightened up in his back. Their chairs are more comfortable than the webbed ones Noah grew up with, but age happens. “I should be going. Some of us have to work in the morning and can’t just sleep in a furry pile.”

Noah doesn’t hear the quiet snorts from around the yard, his sights focused on Leto. She runs towards him, eyes flashing their pretty beta yellow. “There’s my girl! You had a good birthday or whatever? I saw you wrist deep in a cake,” he says, scooping her up.

She growls slightly and pushes her face into Noah’s neck, sharing her scent along with some drool mixed with chocolate sprinkles. “Grand,” she hums contentedly, plump arms around Noah’s neck.

He melts, and there’s no other way to describe it. Peter and Stiles share a smile. For Stiles, it’s something he didn’t know he’d have and didn’t think he’d be able to share with his father. For Peter, it’s the memory of a child lost and how his own mother coddled her grandson, just like Noah does now.

After a final kiss, Noah lets her down, watching as she bounces off both her parents and then runs towards Kira and Malia, confident that she’ll be caught.

Shaking his head, Noah sighs. He looks at Stiles and Peter and says, “This was good, thanks for inviting me and doing this and… This was a good day, just about a perfect day.”

Stiles pulls him into a hug and chuckles. “Man, Dad, don’t curse it!”

“Sorry, son.” Noah and Stiles both enjoy the hug, maybe a little longer than usual. But Stilinski hugs are can cure anything.

After a minute, Noah frowns and pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket, severe look on his face as he reads his text.

“Noah, is everything okay?” Peter asks, pulling Stiles against him. Even without a werewolf’s ability to decipher scents, Stiles know his father. And Stiles is upset.

“I don’t know.” He looks at his phone again, as though maybe the message will change. “It’s from Chris. He’s asking to meet us at the station tomorrow morning.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris has news about Leto's birth family.

They don’t say anything to their guests after showing Noah out with a promise to meet him at ten the next morning at the office.

Leto’s finally worn herself out and even though Derek looks hurt, she lets Peter pick her up and cuddle her into his neck.

“Probably time to get people out of here,” Stiles says, looking around the yard. Erica and Boyd are shifted, sleeping half on top of each other. Boyd must be dreaming, his back leg twitching. Isaac is still human, with coyote-Malia sleeping on one of his legs and Kira asleep on the other.

“Or do we want to leave them here? I mean, they’ll be warm enough and god knows there’s no rain coming.”

“Hmm, not sure. We do have that appointment fairly early.” Peter kisses Leto, keeping his face buried in her curls. “We could use a babysitter tomorrow morning, you know.”

“I can do it,” Derek says from his seat on the ground. “Something happened today, didn’t it? With Noah.” He gestures at the others in the pack, saying, “They couldn’t tell, I don’t think. They’re all excited and happy and…everyone smells like pack, that’s what they’re getting. But there’s something else, whatever the call or text that Noah got. What happened and what can I do?”

Stiles slips out of his chair and crab walks to Derek, pulling him into a hug. “You’re a good nephew and a good cousin to Leto. She loves you, dude. We do, too.”

“Idiot.” Derek pushes him away, but there’s a grin on his face and Stiles can feel the flash of warmth from their pack bond. Of course, it’s strongest between him and Peter, but the bonds Stiles shares with Derek and Cora are still stronger than the rest of the pack. “What happened,” Derek pushes. 

“Argent called and said we need to meet.” Leto whimpers in her sleep, trying to get closer to Peter while he rubs her back. “I don’t know what he wants, but as usual, he’s making demands. Maybe he wants to tell us that he wasn’t able to find anything and he’s done looking.” Peter shrugs and stands, being careful not to wake the baby. “Anyway, if you could stay with her tomorrow morning. We’ll leave around 9.30 and be home when we’re home.”

This time it’s Chris only. He’s sitting towards the left side of Noah’s desk and there’s two chairs pulled over to the right side. Noah, wisely, leaving as much space between them as possible.

Stiles takes the seat closest to Chris, ignoring Peter’s glare. Peter may want to be between his mate and any ‘danger’ but Stiles knows this is going to make for a slightly more pleasant meeting. At least there’s the possibility of less sulking.

“Okay, guys,” Noah says, letting everyone settle and sip coffee or whatever their poison. “Chris, I guess this is your show, you were the one who wanted to meet. What’s going on?”

Chris nods to each of the men in the room and smooths out the piece of paper he’s crumpled in his hands. Not the usual Chris action actually.

“Thanks for coming in, sorry if it caused a panic,” he says. He looks like he hasn’t had much more sleep than Stiles and Peter. “I won’t keep you, but I didn’t want to wait on this.” He sighs and pulls out plain, business-sized envelopes from his jacket pocket, leaning forward to hand them to Noah, nodding that one should go to Peter or Stiles. Either one, they’ll share.

He waits until they all pull out the papers inside and gives them a minute to scan the contents. “Using the names you provided, I was able to track down a relative – the only one I was able to find. Janice Trojan, the sister of Kelly Trojan Rogers.”

Chris points to a picture Noah’s holding of a young woman. She looks average. Just a pretty enough woman with a nice smile. “That’s Janice. Unmarried, lives just outside Fort Wayne, Indiana. Same city she and Kelly grew up in.”

“What happened to Kelly’s pack?” It’s the first thing Peter’s said since they got to the office.

“There was no pack.” Chris tugs at his beard and glances at a piece of paper – probably the same thing the others are looking at. “Kelly was bitten by William’s alpha, the alpha of their nomad pack.”

“Does Janice know?” Stiles asks, because that’s clearly the question for Leto’s future. “About Kelly being a werewolf?”

“Yes. We danced around it a bit but finally she just asked if I was a hunter. William had mentioned that’s why they were traveling – they had attracted attention and were on the move. They were planning on letting Janice know when they had territory, but…” He shrugs and says, “My contacting her was the first she’d heard anything in over a year.”

Peter turns to Stiles, gently touching his shoulder. “Darling? Are you okay?”

Stiles nods and says, “Maybe? I don’t know. Did you see the picture?” He holds out a small photograph to Peter and his voice wavers as he whispers, “This is Leto, when she was a baby. Probably a month old?”

Looking at his copy of the picture, Noah says, “Yeah, more or less.” He looks to Chris, and sounds like a Sheriff when he asks, “So what’s this all mean? Leto’s mother had a sister, who isn’t a wolf. Could she raise a rowdy baby werewolf by herself? What’s her support, where’s the pack that’ll help her when Leto starts puberty or gets –” he waves a hand at Peter, and with his smile, it’s apparently an apology – “when she gets a bit more wolfy than usual and the local cops start talking about mountain lions?”

Before Chris can respond, Stiles interrupts. “She’s not Leto. That’s not her name.” He holds out a piece of paper, some official looking document and Noah digs in his stack until he finds it.

“Harley?”

Stiles nods and says, “Yes. Harley Marie Rogers. I guess either after the motorcycle or –”

“Please let it be after the motorcycle and not that our daughter was named after a cartoon character.” Peter looks over Stiles’ shoulder at the birth certificate. “At least we know her birthday. Hmm, she was born in February, so she’s, what, eighteen months old? Makes sense, she seems to be developing normally for her age.”

“Did you not hear? She has other relatives.” Stiles grabs Peter’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “There’s other family, birth family and…”

“Breathe,” Peter commands. He leans over to kiss Stiles’ temple and then turns to Chris. “So there’s an aunt in the mid-west. How did you leave it, Christopher? Noah has some very good questions about how a human plans to raise a werewolf cub.”

“We didn’t get into details. I told her I’d be in touch and left her my contact information – not yours.” He looks back and forth between Leto’s caretakers and says, “I did not give her your information or any information on where Leto is – or that that’s what she’s called now. I told Janice that Harley is safe and with a werewolf pack and settled.” Chris heaves a sigh and continues, “I tried. I really tried to sell that she’s fine and safe and even said that visits could probably be arranged, but she was pretty excited about – about getting her back and raising her sister’s baby.”

“And as Noah said, when she gets upset and attacks someone, not knowing how strong she is? When a little playmate won’t let her have a turn at the video game and she bites another child, how does dear Janice think she’ll handle that?”

“Bill apparently told Janice about a pack they planned to look into. In southwest Kentucky.” He checks his notes and says, “The Shaw pack? Bill either didn’t mention the alpha’s first name or Janice doesn’t remember it. At any rate, they were supposed to check there and Janice said if I can find more information, she’ll contact them as Harley needs them.”

Stiles pulls his hand away from Peter and puts everything back into the envelope, carefully folding the copy of the birth certificate around the photo of Leto when she was tiny. When she was Harley. “Well, that’s a shitty idea and I can’t see it working. I’m not sure how far away a pack in Kentucky is from a single woman raising a kid in Indiana, but I’ll be glad to tell her that when Leto has a melt down on the way home from Safeway because she can smell the raw chicken that’s double-bagged in the trunk, I don’t want to drive the thirty minutes to Dad’s office, let alone drive for however-many hours.”

“Well, I think that might be a conversation for another day,” Chris says. “She’s planning on leaving her house in a few days, driving, so she’ll probably be here in about ten days. She’s going to call me when she’s on the road and then keep me posted. And I’ll keep you all posted on timing and anything she tells me.”

Peter’s eyes are glowing and there’s a rumble coming from his chest that he may not even be aware of.

Stiles wraps his arms around his head, bending over so he’s talking to his chest. “What you’re saying is in about ten days, a stranger who has almost no knowledge of werewolves and no experience in raising a baby wolf is going to come and take our daughter away?”

“Leto – or Harley’s -- family has been trying to find out where she is. She’s blood family and wants to take care of her only sister’s only child.” Chris stands, and gathers his things, phone and car keys ready to go. “I think you probably have a few things to discuss. Thanks for your time and… thanks for being reasonable.” He nods his goodbyes to everyone, stopping long enough to shake Noah’s hand. He doesn’t even approach Stiles and Peter, just gives them another nod as he leaves.

“Stiles? Please say something,” Peter implores, rubbing Stiles’ back as his mate rocks back and forth. “Please talk to me.”

He takes another moment, silent, using Peter’s handkerchief to wipe his eyes. “What do you want me to say, Peter? Someone’s coming in to take our child.” He shakes his head and looks at his father. “It’s not going to happen, Dad. She’s ours and we’re keeping her.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has a plan, because when doesn't Peter have a plan. 
> 
> And the pack is absolutely supportive.

“Darling? Darling, you need to take a breath and listen to me, okay?” Peter continues to rub circles on Stiles’ back, counting breaths with him. “In for a count of three, okay? In through your nose and then we hold it…”

Noah finds himself holding his breath as well; he’s done these exercises with Stiles before, and knows it calms them both. When Peter instructs Stiles to exhale, all three men do and Peter grins at him.

“Better, love?” Peter asks, and gets a small nod back. “Here, lean back a minute and take a few more breaths. We’re in no rush.”

“No rush?” Stiles lifts his head enough to glare at Peter. He’s still pale and a little sweaty, but he keeps the slow breathing Peter coached him through. “Were we in different meetings or something? Chris was just talking about someone coming to take Leto in like a week or something.”

“I don’t remember him having a date, but we’ll get that confirmed.” Peter takes Stiles’ hand and kisses his knuckles.

Noah remembers doing that with Claudia and he briefly thinks that sometimes he’s glad this man is in his son’s life. Not always, but at times like this, when he’s at a loss for words, Peter seems to be able to find them.

“What are we going to do? You seem way too calm.”

“Stiles, have you ever known me not to have a plan for a potential problem? Along with a plan B and thoughts for plan C?”

Stiles cocks his head and raises an eyebrow. “You’ve already got a plan? Do tell.”

“I’ve been working on a plan since I found the Roger’s name,” he says. Peter and Stiles look at each other with matching, toothy grins.

Noah clears his throat and says, “I hope this doesn’t involve bloodshed.” It’s something he’s become inured to, but still mentions because he should; he’s the county sheriff, after all.

“Does it?” Stiles’ tone sounds almost playful and Noah closes his eyes for a second, taking another deep breath. “Bloodshed, Peter?”

“No, that’s not in my plans, actually.” He continues to rub circles on Stiles’ hand with his thumb and says, “I thought settling this without anyone being hurt would be a good idea. So, my thoughts – it sounds like Janice is a single woman. I didn’t hear mention of any partner and there’s nothing in Chris’ report to indicate there’s a partner, although if there is, the plan can be easily adapted. Option One is we simple convince Janice to stay here. If she gets a job herself and an apartment, great. Or I’m sure I can find someone who can employ her. If that doesn’t work, or if she’s reluctant to work at all, I can afford to give her a monthly payment.”

“Option Two, I’ve been thinking we might want a bigger house, one for anyone who wants to be with their pack to live in. I know Erica and Boyd are trying to figure out where to live so they can be around Boyd’s mother, but still be independent. A pack house would be good for them and for Janice and Leto.”

“Option Three, if it comes to it – we move to where she lives.” He raises a hand to stop Stiles’ objections and nods to Noah as well. “That’s only a last resort, and honestly, I think we’d use it if she’s completely against moving. It would be a statement that we are not letting Leto go from our lives.”

Stiles nods as he thinks of options and concerns with the plans. “If we have to go, Dad comes.”

“Stiles, I think we’re probably jumping the gun.” Noah sighs and finishes thinking over what Peter’s said. “You know, kid, he might be right. I know we’re not a happening, big city, but the home and job and the back up for Leto –”

“Exactly!” Peter says, pointing at Noah. “She’ll need to be here a couple of days before she goes back – I’m sure she’s planning on that, not just jumping in the car again and driving off.” He pauses as Stiles’ scent goes miserable, reminding Peter of wet newspaper. “She won’t want to. And we’ll be so helpful and show her exactly how wonderful a werewolf toddler can be.”

“She’s totally gonna want to stay here!” Stiles’ grin is terrifying and the winds shift. “Leto’s pretty much a terror, and maybe we don’t let her sleep or like we skip a meal or two before Jan-not-so-nice shows up and we –”

Peter grabs Stiles’ arm and pulls him towards the office door. “And with that lovely thought, I think it’s time we went home. Noah, will you be over later?”

“Yeah, save me a beer,”

“And a salad!” Stiles calls as he’s dragged from the office.

Malia meets them by the car, growling and looking around like they brought a hunter family home with them in Peter’s car. “What happened?” she asks, scenting Stiles and then pushing him aside to do the same to Peter. “Come on in the house, everyone’s waiting.”

Inside, they’re pulled into the living room and pushed onto the sofa, with the others gathered around them.

“What did he say?” Derek has Leto in his arms and she wiggles and growls until he lets her down. “What did Chris want? Did he find any of Leto’s relatives?”

“You okay, baby?” Stiles holds still and lets her grab at him, sniffing him from his hair down into his lap, claws out, leaving little scratches on his arms. “We’re good, pumpkin, sorry we were out, but you had a good time with your pack, right?”

“NO!” She pushes her way into Peter’s lap, scents him for a moment and then goes over the arm of the couch onto the end table and then plops to the floor. “Down down down,” she chants and runs-shuffles towards the kitchen.

“I can get something started for her,” Stiles says, pushing off Peter’s arm to get up. “If she’s not really hungry now, she will be soon. Since apparently no one fed her while we were out.”

Malia pushes Stiles back on the couch, squeezing Peter’s shoulder as she heads towards the kitchen. “Hey, we fed her. Between Kira and Derek, do you think we’d let her starve? And I’ll get her something else, you guys just start talking about what you heard from Argent.”

“Wow, Malia’s being – what? I don’t want to say maternal, but she’s acting like she can tolerate a kid,” Stiles stage whispers to Peter. “Maybe we can leave her with her half-sister and get a date night.”

“Don’t push it, Stiles,” Malia calls from the kitchen.

Picking up various plates and glasses from the tables in the living room, Kira goes to the kitchen as well. She calls over her shoulder, “We’ll get things cleaned up, sorry, we made a mess. Anyone other than Miss Leto hungry?”

“And hey, come on, what happened with your meeting with Argent? And what’s going on with our little nugget here?” Erica shoves crumpled paper towels into an empty chip bag, and licks her finger to pick up some BBQ flavored crumbs, grinning when Boyd’s eyes flash.

“Do we need to kill anyone?” Boyd’s as calm as usual when he says this, but as Erica tells them, he’s still waters running deep. And rough.

“No killing. At least not yet,” Stiles answers. “We’ll update you when everyone’s back in the room.”

It takes a couple of minutes for the pack to get drinks and the decision is made to order pizza with double sausage. Leto’s discovered she likes pizza, even though she pulls off the cheese and steals sausage from everyone she can. Which is everyone because who can deny her?

Along with Derek and Cora, there’s Malia and Kira, Erica and Boyd. Lydia and Isaac are the only pack members there without a partner (if you consider Derek and Cora as a fierce, supportive unit.). Scott’s not there, but that’s not surprising, at least not to Stiles.

They’re still friends, of course, and Stiles is officially the pack’s emissary, but Scott doesn’t quite understand how Stiles can be with Peter. Even though Scott is completely happy being a wolf, enjoying the power and extra strength he has, he still somehow holds a grude against Peter for the initial bite. That, and he doesn’t understand how Stiles can be with someone who is responsible for so many deaths.

If Scott blames Stiles for the destruction the Nogitsune caused, neither mentions it.

When everyone’s in place, food and drink in hand, Stiles nods to Peter so he can explain what they learned.

“Short version of it, is Chris found Leto’s aunt. She lives in the Midwest –“

“Indiana,” Stiles interjects. “Buttfuck, Indiana or something.”

“Yes, she lives in Buttfuck, Indiana, which I believe is near Fort Wayne. At any rate, she’s a single woman, and Kelly’s sister.” He pauses and takes a sip of wine. It’s an inexpensive bottle of Zinfandel, what he calls ‘pizza wine’ – one he’ll share with the pack and their less than sophisticated tastes. “Auntie Janice,” he continues. “Leto’s mother was a bitten wolf, her husband’s alpha bit her when they married. Janice, of course, isn’t a wolf. She’s human. She’s coming here with the intention of taking Leto back with her to raise.”

Leto looks around the group and growls quietly, sensing the mood of her pack. “Papa, up,” she commands, raising her arms to Stiles.

“Come on, baby,” he says, pulling her against his chest, tilting his head so she can rub pizza grease into his shirt. It matches the grease in his hair, so whatever. “Harley. Her parents named her Harley.”

They’re all quiet for a long moment, watching as Leto – because she’s not Harley to them – chews on the latest stuffed rabbit Derek’s brought her. When she pulls it out of her mouth and offers it to Peter, he accepts it with a quiet ‘thank you.’

Cora shifts a little closer to Derek, leaning against his legs. “Are we just going to let this woman take her?” She looks around and everyone seems lost in thought. “Come on, this is our pack and I don’t care who the egg and sperm donors were, she’s our family and _our_ pack. Why does this woman get to win? It’s our turn to win.”

“It’s not a matter of winning,” Peter says quietly, reaching over to take Stiles’ hand. “We all want to do what’s best for her, right? And I’m sure Janice does as well.”

“Peter’s thinking we can convince her to move here. To be closer to a real wolf pack, who can help with the things Leto will need. Help her control her shift. Make sure she’s not an omega.”

There’s a bit of relief in the room, the scent shifting from complete anger and frustration to something slightly less bitter, something with less vinegar.

Lydia takes a sip of her wine; she’s one of the only ones Peter will share the good bottles with. “What’s the plan? Is there something we can do to make her stay?”

“Or have her not come at all?” Boyd asks and shrugs. “Assuming you want to keep her and not share?”

“I think we’d be willing to share. I’m not against Leto knowing her birth family. But there’s no way we’re calling her Harley.”

“We’ll do whatever you need us to do, Peter, Stiles. All you need to do is ask,” Derek says and the rest of the pack nods in agreement. “She’s yours and she’s pack. She belongs with us.”


End file.
